


To Reflect the Sky

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Stories from the Cupboard [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: California, College Life, Cowboys, Developing Relationship, F/M, Movie Actors and Actresses, Movie Stars, Native Americans, Pennsylvania, Professors, Television Actors and Actresses, Television Stars, montana, music scene, ranch life, singers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 94,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Water has no color of its own.  The only reason it has color is that it reflects the sky.  So it is with some people who exist on the edges of life.  They reflect their surroundings, but they don't actually seem to have an identity of their own.Raised by older, emotionally withdrawn parents, Barbara Crider did not learn how to develop feelings of love or how to express them.  As she sets out on an odyssey crisscrossing America, she attracts, then hurts men whose only sin is in loving her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes a character will take over a story when he (or she) is supposed to have equal emphasis with other characters. That happened with Barbara Crider in "Strangers Until That Day." So this is the part of her story that is not contained in "Strangers Until That Day."

"Would you like a cold drink, ma'am?"

And that's how Tommy Nolan came into her life.

Barbara Crider squinted up into the shy, smiling face of the young man who was timidly handing her a cold soda. Does someone like this actually exist, anymore? she wondered. Probably someone from a local ranch, judging by his cowboy gear. The Levis, plaid shirt, and Stetson that he held in his other hand looked authentic on him.

"I would, if you'll stop calling me 'ma'am,'" she replied.

He blushed, and she thought, 'Wow!'

Barbara and the other summer workers at the National Park had driven out the east entrance of Yellowstone to Cody, Wyoming, to see the Buffalo Bill Museum and to soak up western flavor. Real life cowboys walked the streets awkwardly, and the college kids wished it was rodeo week in Cody so they could see a real bang-up western show.

But Barbara was more than drawn to the young cowboy who shyly bought her a bottle of cold cola. Something about Tommy told her he was what she’d been seeking. So after they drank their colas with her co-workers, she whispered to Tommy where she could be found in Yellowstone, in case he was interested in continuing their discussion.

Turned out, he was. And as they walked around Yellowstone, they decided to get friendlier. Early that afternoon Barbara tossed her battered suitcase into the back of Tommy’s beat-up pickup truck and escaped Yellowstone. That job had just been a stopgap for her, anyway. And she was ready to move on.

They bounced out the north entrance of Yellowstone Park and spent the next fifty miles talking and getting acquainted well. Just outside of Livingston, they stopped at a motel and really got acquainted. Tommy was clumsy, but adequate and gentlemanly. 

The next morning, he asked her to ride along with him for a spell. She accepted. Why not? She had nowhere else to go, and the job at Yellowstone was in the past now. Besides, she kind of liked Tommy and wouldn’t mind being with him for awhile. She could do a whole lot worse, and Barbara figured she might have found someone who could temporarily shelter her.

They drove north and a little east, branched onto gravel and then dirt roads, and finally turned into a weather-beaten ranch.

“Well, there it is,” Tommy said proudly. “Home.”

Half a dozen squat buildings huddled dismally on the prairie. Barbara recognized a barn and a ranch house. Other buildings could be a hen house and implement shed. Maybe some of the other buildings were simply just there and had outlived their original purpose. Maybe they simply housed junk and debris from other lifetimes. Without realizing it, Barbara had hit on the truth. Buildings, like people, outlive their usefulness and assume other identities or simply rot down.

A lot of the buildings could stand a paint job. She took a second look and realized that she had been generous. It had been years since any of these wind-scoured buildings had felt a paintbrush.

But the buildings were here for a purpose, the same as the people who owned them. They were here for work, not for beauty. But there was also a certain beauty in that harshness, Barbara decided.

A man’s domain, a man’s pride. Acres of nothing, with cattle hopefully grazing somewhere. Barbara could feel the presence of women who had dried up and died in this forlorn country. But for now it was a sanctuary for her. Here was somewhere to breathe and rest up, if only for a little while.

“Lewis and Clark National Forest is around us to the west. Bits and pieces of it crop up everywhere. We run cattle up in it.”

“We?”

“Me and uncle Ray. You’ll be meeting him soon, most likely. Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”

‘Something’ turned out to be the hayloft in the old barn. Seems Tommy had always dreamed of taking a girl up to the loft with him. Barbara could see no harm in it. In fact there was something a little thrilling about doing ‘it’ outside, yet hidden. 

And there wasn’t any harm until a voice interrupted their interlude.

They hadn’t bothered with removing their shirts, but they were naked from the waist down. When Barbara heard the throat clearing, she grabbed for her jeans.

“Don’t bother, missy. Yours isn’t the first bare pussy I’ve ever seen. Praise the Lord, it won’t be my last. But it sure is a mighty pretty one, at that.”

Barbara whirled in open mouthed shock and had an impression of a scrawny cowboy squinting through tobacco smoke.

“Uncle Ray--”

“And the way the kid’s pumping over you, it’s the first real piece of pussy he’s ever handled.”

Barbara was wild with indignation, but part of her wanted to laugh out loud. It was a ridiculous situation. And Tommy had been reduced to a red-faced child.

And part of Barbara wanted to crow with delight. Here was a man. The first real man she’d met in a long time.

“Tommy, suppose you and your friend get dressed and come on down to the house. We’ll drink coffee and make introductions, and then you can take her to your bedroom the way a sensible man would do. Don’t you know she could get wood splinters in her butt carrying on like that up here?”

Barbara’s eyes flashed with laughter and her awareness of him. She was sure Uncle Ray saw her amusement and reaction to his maleness, because his eyes sparkled with interest of her as she took a good look at him.

The cowboy was nearing middle-age, probably just in his prime, but still tough enough to take on the young bucks. His ugly face looked like it’d been stepped on by a cow or two in his time, and probably had been. A cigarette dangled from his insolent, surly lips. Hands hung like claws on either side of his gaunt hips, and Barbara had to look twice to make sure he wasn’t wearing six-shooters. Dusty jeans followed the curve of his bow legs, and all the denim seemed to hide from Barbara’s view was knobby knees and sex organs. 

But Barbara knew they were there. Every fiber of his tough frame testified to that fact. Here was a Man.

A curious man, a frightening man, but a man nonetheless. A man Barbara knew she’d never forget.

Ray was putting the coffee pot on the wood burning stove when Barbara and Tommy entered the ranch house. Barbara squirmed, pulled a piece of straw out of her jeans, and grinned self-consciously at Tommy who blushed.

“Sit down, kids. Seems Tommy’s had a whole lot more interesting weekend than I’ve had. I just lost a month’s pay in a card game down in Bozeman and a little sleep in a cat house in White Sulfur Springs. All in all, typical weekend off the ranch.“ He gave Barbara a sharp look. “Where’d he find you, Sis?”

“Cody. He rescued me from Yellowstone.”

“You’ll probably wish a hundred times you were back there. Ain’t much goes on around here, unless you’re planning on spending a lot of time in the hayloft. That’ll be okay for awhile, but Tommy here has chores to do, too. He can‘t be humping you all the time.”

“I’ll leave him a little energy for chores,” Barbara retorted crisply. Uncle Ray seemed to be exaggerating on purpose. A warning to her, maybe?

Sharing Tommy’s room was not so bad since Barbara had so few belongings and Tommy was rarely there, except at night. Barbara found that cowboys awoke early and worked late. They were often in the elements and ate sporadically. Seeing ranching firsthand took a lot of the glamour out of it. The movies had ranch life all wrong. It was a lot of long hours and hard work. And the cowboys themselves were often coarse and crude and what she grimly called ‘elemental.’ They had few niceties in their lives and asked for none.

Barbara would’ve felt trapped if the land itself hadn’t fascinated her. The rolling prairies, the mountains in the distant, and the clear air all stirred her romantic daydreams. The movie portrayal of the independent mountain man and the rugged cowboy peopled her thoughts. But the reality of ranching was often harsh and unforgiving. If she’d been living in a retirement cottage instead of a working ranch, she could’ve been more comfortable.

As it was, the drudgery of the ranch work was not doled out to her. Tommy and Ray were accustomed to fending for themselves, and a few meals from Barbara showed them that they better keep the old arrangement. Barbara cooked, but not ranch style. She liked to use fresh fruits and vegetables and to fix tossed salads. The men liked fried beefsteak and milk gravy over fried potatoes. That kind of food nearly sickened Barbara. Besides, she didn’t need that many calories.

 

Although Barbara had been attracted to Ray the day they met, they spent little time together. He practically went out of his way to avoid her, so anytime that he favored her with a few words was extraordinary. She didn’t know, though, if attention from him was to be appreciated or not.

“What’s on your schedule for today, missy?” Ray asked as he cleared the table of dishes.

Barbara had told them that her name was Amy Lindell, but he seemed to take some pride in calling her by the demeaning term of ‘missy.’

Amy dragged deeply on her cigarette, let the smoke out quickly, and shrugged. “Soak up some local color, I guess.”

“You can do that right over here at the dishpan.”

Amy glared at him. 

“It won’t hurt you to help out a little around here. Do you cook anything besides what you‘ve already tried to feed us?”

She smirked.

“You know if you can’t, that ain’t no sin,” he said quietly. “Not wanting to try to learn is another matter.”

“You know so much!”

“Not really. I just know you can’t take pride in yourself if you have nothing to take pride in. Now, if you want to learn, we’re willing to show you how. In the meantime, I can show you how to wash dishes.”

“I know how to do that much!” she stated as she jumped to her feet and pushed past him. She dived her hands into the dishwater and sent suds flying.

“Maybe you just better start with dish drying for now,” he said softly. “Otherwise, you’ll have to take some lessons in mopping up the floor.”

She glared at him, but took the dishtowel he handed to her.

 

Ray Nolan drew deeply on his cigarette, expelled the smoke, and squinted at his nephew through the curling trail of cigarette smoke from his fingers. “How long are you planning on keeping that gal here?”

Tommy looked up from the lariat that he was braiding. “As long as she wants to stay, I guess.”

“Do you have any kind of understanding with her?”

Tommy flashed his big grin. “Just that we deserve to take as much pleasure from each other that we can get.”

Ray frowned. “I thought I taught you to respect women better than that.”

Tommy straightened the braiding and tested it, then he glanced up at Ray. “There are women, and then there are women. I’m not being disrespectful, Uncle Ray. Amy and I both know that ours is a short term relationship. Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to get hurt. She’ll go her way one of these days. We‘ll both have a beautiful memory and no regrets.” He winked. “And no strings, either.”

Ray shook his head in disbelief. “I’ll never understand this modern generation!”

Tommy tossed the rope aside “It’s the Eighties, Uncle Ray! A new spirit is in the country, and Youth is coming into its own.”

“It still doesn’t make sense the way she’s running around the way she is,” Ray grumbled. “She must not think very much of herself.”

“She just has a different way of looking about things than you do. That doesn’t make her bad, just different. Look, someday I’ll get married. But right now I’m going to have some fun. I don’t care. Amy doesn’t care. Why should you care?”

“I guess I feel like I should be calling someone to task for your behavior. If she was my niece I’d be doing a whole lot more than talking.”

“She’s a free spirit, Uncle Ray.” He grinned. “At least you’ve got her doing some of the cooking.”

Ray sighed. “If you can call it that. But everyone has to start somewhere, I guess. Just so our stomachs hold out until she learns.”

“I think no one’s ever taken the time to show her household chores.”

“No one’s ever made her accountable before, you mean.”

“No one’s ever cared enough before to help her,” Tommy said gently. “You’re probably more of a parent to her than anyone’s ever been. She said her parents never paid her much attention.”

Ray frowned. “That’s a shame. Nobody should be treated that way.”

Tommy grinned. “I have a feeling she won’t be as long as she’s here.”

“She’ll pull her own weight, or leave!”

Tommy was puzzled. “Why do you want to act like such a hard ass about her?”

“Some people just need to be treated that way,” Ray growled. “Nobody’s ever set limits for her, but by golly, I will! And she’ll follow my rules, or get out! Ain’t nobody stopping her from hitting the road.”

“Maybe she can’t. I don’t know why, but I feel like she needs us as a sanctuary.”

Ray hooted. “She needs nobody! That gal has no heart! She doesn’t know how to love! She’s a ball buster, boy! And I won’t let her hurt you.”

“I’ll be careful, Uncle Ray. I won’t fall in love with her. She’s not the type for that. She’s a Sometimes Girl, and they’re as permanent as the blowing sand. She asks for nothing and takes nothing. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”

“Just don’t seem right,” Ray grumbled, but dropped the subject. 

 

One day Amy drove Ray’s pickup out into the prairie to bring some cold lunch to Ray and Tommy who’d been working on the range since sun-up.

Amy got out of the truck with determination. She WOULD made friends with Ray today. Then life on the ranch would be a lot easier on everybody. “Where’s Tommy?” she asked as she pulled the picnic hamper out of the pickup.

Ray pulled down the tailgate. “Ain’t here yet.” He began rummaging around in the basket. “Did you remember the salt and pepper?”

Amy cringed. “I brought them, but I should’ve given your stomach a break and left them back at the house.’

“You watch your tummy, missy, and I’ll watch mine.” He bit down on a chicken leg and washed it down with strong coffee. “You got the chicken fried up real good,“ he commented. 

“Why, thank you,“ she said, amazed by the sudden praise.

“The skin’s on it, and feathers ain’t. And you had the grease good and hot when you dropped the battered pieces in. That sealed the moisture in and helped it to cook.“

It sealed the fat in, too, but she didn’t say anything. Not when he was praising her the way he was.

Then he went and ruined it.

“Just shows what good teaching can do for you.“

She bristled. “Maybe I’m just a good student.“

For some reason, he grinned. “Just checking. Yep. Nothing wrong with your bite. You’re still as feisty as an old sitting hen that‘s been tossed off her nest.“

“Maybe I have to be,“ she challenged.

That amused him, but angered her.

“What?!”

“Just wondering if Tommy knows what kind of a hellcat he hauled home.”

“I think that’s what kind of a woman it takes out here. Sweet, little shrinking violets would shrivel up and die in a week.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Oh? That’s the first time that you’ve agreed with me.”

“It’s the first time you’re said something smart.”

“It is not!”

“Alright. How about something that sounds smart?”

“You mean, something that agrees with your way of thinking.”

He grinned. “Now you’re catching on.”

“There’s fresh fruit in the basket,” she said as she watched him digging around in the basket’s contents.

“I’ll save it for you, Missy. This is what I’m looking for. Glad you remembered to include the important stuff.“ He grabbed a biscuit, twisted it apart, and placed two hunks of crisply fried fatback between the halves. He saw Amy cringe again and he grinned at her. “This will put hair on your chest.”

“No, thanks. That really doesn’t appeal to me as something I’d want."

He snorted with laughter, then went back to his chewing.

She glared at him. "I’m more worried about what that bacon will do to your heart.”

“My daddy died at eighty and he ate this stuff just like this almost every day of his life. What’s the use of living if you can’t enjoy it?” He studied her as he chewed. 

She wiped wind-tossed hair out of her face. “What are you looking at?”

“I haven’t figured you out, Missy, but I’m working on it.”

“I’m Tommy’s girlfriend. That’s all that should concern you.”

A grin play alongside his greasy mouth, but a knowing look crackled in his eyes.

Amy turned away in frustration and sought a new topic. “Were there Indians around here?”

“There were Indians all over the United States until the white men decided that they wanted the Indian land and practically wiped them off the face of the Earth.”

She glared back at him. “I know all that. I’ve studied history. And, yes, it was an atrocity. I was just curious what tribes were around here.” She looked into the distance. “It’s so beautiful around here. And it has such a holy feel about it. I figured that this land must have been sacred to somebody at some time other than now.”

He stared at her. How in the hell had she picked that up?

“It was sacred. Very sacred.”

She looked at him because his voice sounded different. It wasn’t mocking anymore.

“Then there were indigenous people who loved it.”

“Yeah.“ Ray wiped his mouth on a paper napkin. “Blackfeet. Mostly Blackfeet. They still live on the reservations nearby.”

“I hear that the Indians have a bad life now. Is that true?”

He chose another piece of chicken. “It’s no bed of roses for them.”

“People should always have hope. Otherwise, living would be hard to do.”

He glanced up. “I didn’t say they didn’t have hope. After all, they still have Lakota.”

“Lakota? Who is that?”

“A legend, mostly. It’s actually the name of an Indian tribe, part of the Dakota nation. But to some people, Lakota is a free spirit riding bareback across the plains. Some say she was wronged by a white man and bore him a child he wouldn’t claim. She was a pretty, young thing, indignant about her people losing their ancient homeland to white settlers when she was brought down by her own personal tragedy. She was on fire with the idealism of youth about the injustice served to her peoples when she died. Some say she still rides the prairie on moonlit nights to rally her tribesmen. When she thinks her cause is particularly important, she is said to ride buck naked.”

“Naked?”

“As the day she was born. I say she’d be damnation sore afterwards, and it’d be a bad waste of good pussy. The horse wouldn’t even be aware of what was going on his back.”

Amy blushed. “I don’t appreciate that kind of talk.”

He gazed at her levelly. “Just checking to see if you have any standards at all. Guess you do.”

“Yes, I do! Just because I’m here with Tommy doesn’t make me a slut!”

Ray blinked. “Now who talks dirty?” He tossed the stripped chicken bone away. “Glad to see that you have some principles, Missy. The rules have changed so much nowadays, it’s hard for this old cowboy to keep from getting dizzy.”

“Some rules don’t change, Mr. Nolan.”

He studied her, then rustled in the picnic basket. “You can call me ‘Ray.’ We aren’t too big on ceremony around here. It makes me feel old to be called ‘Mr. Nolan.’ And I’m betting you’re closer to my age than Tommy’s. I was just a teenager when I took over raising him. He graduated from high school last year. He has his whole life ahead of him. Don’t mess it up for him.”

“I have no intentions of hurting Tommy! He’s my friend!” She turned away and tried to calm her temper. The prairie with all of its empty vastness met her eyes, and she marveled at all of the peace in it. She lifted her eyes and studied the distant mountains. She listened as the wind sloughed across the waving prairie grasses, and she was calmed as she always was by nature. Whether she was on an ocean beach or here on the prairie, Amy drew strength from God’s creation.

“Is it always this lovely?” she asked as the wind blew her hair back from her face.

Ray glanced at her, then squinted at the distant mountains as he chewed another biscuit. “It’s being nice to you today. I’ve seen blizzards out here that have driven livestock crazy. Drought don’t do much for them, neither. But this is spring, and you’re getting to see a mighty pretty show. These wildflowers won’t stay long.” His eyes slid sideways toward her. “How about you, Missy? Are you planning to stay around here for long? I don’t want Tommy’s heart broken. And women like you are hard on cowboys.”

Amy stared at Ray. Was he talking about Tommy, or himself?

Hoof beats approached in the distance.

“Here comes Tommy now,” Amy mumbled and busied herself with the food.

 

“What you got there?” Ray asked one evening after supper. “Reading’s kind of hard to do in lamplight.”

“Just a book I found in the parlor,” Amy answered “It’s a cookbook, but it’s so old. The directions are nothing like today’s cooking methods.”

Ray twisted the book so he could see the cover. “That belonged to my grandmother. She brought it out with her as a bride when she left Indiana. She’d never laid eyes on my grandpa until their wedding day. She was one of those mail order brides.”

“Did they have a happy marriage?”

“They lived out here for forty-three years and raised five kids. I don’t know how happy they were, but they never split up. Don’t find too much of that kind of loyalty these days. Least little excuse and Pouf!, there goes the marriage.”

“Have your people always lived around here?”

“My great-grandfather came home to Virginia after the Civil War and found everything gone: home, family, land. He headed West and a few years later he wound up at Fort Laramie. Word of great mining around Virginia City and Helena spurred him to try to scoop up the riches for himself. He took out on the Bozeman Trail in 1870 with a bunch of roughnecks. Somewhere along the way, he got robbed and left for dead. He wandered for days and finally the Indians rescued him. Damned good thing it hadn’t been a few years later or a different bunch of Indians, or he’d been caught at the Little Big Horn and I wouldn’t be here. But the Indians were friendly and took him to a mountain man who nursed him back to health. The mountain man had a half-breed wife and a couple of daughters. My great-grandpa got to liking the older gal real well, and he forgot all about the mining camps further west.”

“So your family settled here several years before Custer’s Last Stand. Have they always been ranchers?”

“The sensible ones have. We’ve had our share of dreamers, too. Tommy and I don’t have many close relatives around, but there are some second and third cousins still living close. Old Josiah might be disappointed that his family’s so scattered.”

“Josiah?”

“My great-grandfather. The one that was in the Civil War. He had a son who went off to the gold mines further west. He was twenty years old, the last anyone ever heard of him.”

“How sad.”

“Yeah. If he’d wanted precious gems, he could’ve found them around here.”

“Really? What?”

“Well, there’s rubies and garnets up in the mountains. And if you look real careful, you might even find a sapphire.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Back in ‘96 a prospector up near Utica picked up a handful of what looked liked pretty blue pebbles out of a gopher hole. The pretty blue pebbles turned out to be sapphires.”

“Gosh!”

“Now, don’t go getting that gleam in your eyes. Remember that most blue rocks you find will be just that: blue rocks.”

“A girl can always hope, can’t she?”

“You’ll get more profit from that cookbook.”

Amy sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, mother.”


	2. Chapter 2

Tommy and Amy sauntered arm-in-arm into the noisy, smoke-filled saloon. A twangy cowboy song blared out of the jukebox, but who could hear it for all the noise of boisterous cowboys hollering at each other and having a good time.

The young people stopped at a table where several people sat nursing beers.

“Uncle Ray?”

Ray squinted up through cigarette smoke. “Tommy? That you, boy?”

Tommy laughed and Amy nervously followed suit. She still didn’t really know how to act around Ray.

“How many of those have you had, Uncle Ray?”

Ray took another sip of beer. “Not nearly enough, boy. I‘m still standing.” 

“You’re seated, Uncle Ray.“

“I’ll be damned,“ he mumbled. “They must be working, after all.“ He pointed at the heavily painted blonde hanging possessively on his arm. “This is Thelma.” He looked at the woman. “What’s your last name, darlin’?”

“Whatever you want it to be, darlin,’” she said and flirted outrageously back.

“Anyway.” Ray looked back at Tommy and Amy. “Thelma. You know, like in, ‘T for Texas, T for Tennessee, T for Thelma, the gal who made a wreck out of me,’” he crooned off-key, in a terrible imitation of Earnest Tubb’s great hit. He and Thelma leaned together and laughed.

“Ray, Uncle Ray, can you listen to me for a minute?”

Ray gestured around the table. “Sure. But first, meet the rest of my friends. This is Max and Betty. They’re married. But not necessarily to each other.” He led a hoot of laughter from his friends. It was a good thing that the whole bunch was seated as drunk as they were.

“Nice to meet you folks. Uncle Ray--”

“This here is my nephew, Tommy,” Ray announced with pride. He favored Amy with a brief glimpse and scowled. “The other one is his friend, Amy something or other.”

“Lindell,” Amy supplied.

“Well, hello, Amy something or other,” Max greeted as he started to stand up. “You sure are a looker.”

Betty pushed Max back into his chair. “Sit down, you old lecher! She’s just a kid.”

“Looks all prime to me, darlin’!”

Betty socked him in the shoulder. “Stop looking, then!”

The exchange was bringing laughter from surrounding tables, and Ray was glaring and looked suddenly sober. Amy shouldn’t be dressed so boldly or acting so brazenly. No wonder other guys were gawking at her and thinking she was easy. 

“What are you two doing in here?”

“We’re on our way up to Great Falls, Uncle Ray. Don’t wait up for us. We might be late.”

A shouting match broke out at another table, and Ray relaxed when attention left his table. He took another sip of beer.

“What’s going on up at Great Falls?”

“A folk festival. Peter, Paul, and Mary are supposed to be there. Maybe even Joan Biaz.”

“What in the hell do you know about folk music?”

Tommy grinned at Amy. “Nothing, but Amy’s willing to teach me.”

“Among other things, obviously,” Ray muttered under his breath, but Amy heard him. Then Ray was glaring at her. “Is that how you’re dressing for this folk festival?”

Amy glanced down at her cowboy boots and blouse with puffed sleeves. She knew he’d have no objections to them or to the brown cowboy hat perched on her head. Perhaps it was the bare midriff that bothered him. More than likely, though, it was the low cut, raggedy cut-off jeans that had raised his ire.

Amy tossed her short hair as best she could. “Yes.”

“Better take a jacket and jeans so you won’t get cold.”

In July? “Yes, mother.” She put her hand on her hip to show off her figure and was rewarded with a glare from Ray. She lowered her hand and stopped her provocative pose. It was safer not to push him too far. “I’ve got my serape out in Tommy’s pickup. I can always wrap it around me, in case I get, cold.”

Ray gave his companions at his table a lazy grin to include them in the joke. “Good old blanket on the ground. Some things never change. Guess these kids aren’t so dumb, after all. There’ll be a hot time in the old serape tonight.”

The table exploded in laughter at Amy’s expense, and she blushed in spite of herself.

“I’ll do my best to preserve our bodily heat,” Amy said over the laughter and fought back the tears in her eyes. 

“You do that, missy,” Ray said. “And, Tommy, my best advice to you is not to leave her alone. Don’t even go after coffee by yourself. Hard telling who’ll she’ll try to keep warm under that serape.”

Amy tossed her head again and more laughter followed But there was less humor and more of a challenge pouring out of Ray’s eyes. Tears smarted in her own eyes, but she wouldn’t give Ray any satisfaction. She placed her hand on her hip again.

“Maybe you better go along with us, to protect Tommy’s interests.” She’d like to get him somewhere outside his element and make him look like an idiot. Maybe then she could get the last laugh on him.

Ray turned to his friends with a laugh, but not before Amy saw a hardness ignite in his dark eyes. She knew as clearly as if he’d spoken that he knew what the brazen bitch was planning, and it wasn’t about to happen.

“That’d be the day that I went to a folk festival. Now, if you said that Marty Robbins or Mr. Roy Acuff was performing up in Great Falls, we’d all go. Hell, we’d empty this cheap saloon and form a caravan.” He glanced up at Amy. “You’d probably get the chance to wear that serape out.”

She glared at Ray. “In your dreams, cowboy.”

“Well, you got that almost right, missy,” he drawled. “But it’d be more like in my nightmares.”

Amy lifted her head in defiance as laughter broke out again. In another minute, tears really would spill out of her eyes.

“Whooee! Look at this here piece of heaven!”

Amy felt herself torn away from Tommy’s side and slammed against the chest of a sweaty man with possessive hands. Tommy started to pull her back, but the big man shoved him aside.

“Stand easy, boy. Better pass this around some, Tommy. You can’t have all the luck. Whooee, sugar,” he said to Amy. “Where have you been hiding so long?”

“Back off, cowboy,” she said, trying to shove out of his arms. “Go take a cold shower. Or jump in the nearest horse trough.” She wrinkled her nose. “Smells like you’ve already done that.”

“And cool down from wanting you, sweetheart? I think not. Don’t struggle, honey. You’ll like what a real cowboy can do for you. Yes, sir,” he said, looking down at his prize. “I heard that Tommy here had started the trapping season early this year. Guess I heard right. He sure brought himself home one nice beaver pelt.”

Amy stopped struggling and gasped. Even for these earthy talking people, that was a mighty nasty thing to say. “Why, you!” She beat at his chest and he just laughed.

Tommy stood helplessly by.

“Okay, McKenna, that’s enough.”

Amy and McKenna both looked at Ray who stood leaning on the table. His eyes looked hooded, as if he were half asleep.

“This is no business of yours, Nolan.”

Ray sighed and straightened. “Oh, yes, it is. As long as she’s on the ranch, I have to look out for her welfare.”

“Why are you so interested? I don’t see your brand on her. Or is that the trouble? Is she a slippery little heifer? Hell, guy, any man can have her kind. Just try your luck. Ugh!”

Ray had hit McKenna in the gut, then grabbed his shirt front. “You’ve got a big mouth, McKenna. She’s Tommy’s girl, so she deserves a certain amount of respect.” He glanced over to where Tommy held a shivering Amy. “Get her out of here. Go on to Great Falls. Tell her that buses leave from there, too. One way buses! Go on. Git!”

Tommy led Amy outside where she finally stopped him. “Will he be okay?”

“Ray? Yeah. I saw him shove McKenna aside and sit down with his friends again. It’ll all be forgotten in ten minutes. Come on. Let’s get going to Great Falls.”

“Tommy! Wait!” Her eyes were gleaming. “I have a better idea. Let’s go out on the mesas!”

“What the hell for?! We’ll miss the concert.”

She grabbed his hands. “Love, Tommy! That’s what for! I want to do it under the stars for all the world to see!”

“That might happen if we do it out on the mesas. The Indian reservation is out that way.”

“Better yet! I want to teach the Indians something! I want to bring joy back into their world! I want to ride buck naked on the bare back of a pony and inspire them to bring a sense of pride and youth back into their lives.”

Tommy frowned. “What’s gotten into you? Have you been listening to Ray’s tales about Lakota?”

She coyly stepped in a circle. “He’s told me about the legendary Indian girl who rides the prairies in search of ways to avenge her people.”

“And that’s all she is. Just a legend. She gives hope to those people out on the reservations, but they’re realists, too. They don’t believe in Santa Claus anymore, either.”

She grabbed his hand. “Oh, Tommy, let’s give them back that hope!”

“Let’s. Not.” He frowned. “Amy, I don’t know what you have in mind, but we better not carry it through. Ray won’t like it.”

What a wonderful reason, then, to do it, she thought.

She pulled him toward the pickup. “Come on, you old fuddy-duddy! It’s time we made some legends come true!”

“I don’t think I’m going to like this,” he said with a laugh.

She caught him in a hug. “Oh, yes, you will, later, out on the mesas.”

This time, he grabbed her hand and began to run, too.

 

Late the next morning, Amy shuffled bleary-eyed into the kitchen. She wore bell-bottoms and a baggy white T-shirt, but was bare-footed. She fumbled for a cup out of the cabinet, gingerly poured herself some steaming coffee, stumbled to the table, and piled down at her place opposite Ray.

“You missed church again, missy,” Ray said as he gripped his cup with both hands and huddled over the table.

“No, shit,” Amy mumbled. “What was the sermon about?”

“Love one another,” Ray muttered and wrapped his lips around the rim of his cup and took a long, noisy sip. “But you wouldn’t need any pointers on that now, would you, missy?” His eyes were bright points of light in his shadowy face. “You’d give a whole new meaning to that Christian teaching.”

She blew on her hot coffee. “I don’t need any of your smart-assed remarks this morning, Ray. It’s been years since you’ve been inside of a church yourself.”

“As the old song goes, ‘The place where I worship is the wide open spaces.’ And I do that every day.”

She frowned as she cautiously took a sip of the hot coffee. “Nothing wrong with that.”

He set his coffee cup down with a thump. ‘We agree on something?”

“We probably agree on a whole lot of stuff,” she said wearily. “We both think a lot of Tommy, for one thing. Where is he, anyway?”

“Out doing his chores. He does have to work around here once in awhile, you know. What time did you two get in, anyway? He didn’t want to get up, and the steers like to have their breakfast on time.”

“Late. It was late.” She reached for a donut.

“Fix yourself some eggs.”

“Huh?”

“Eggs. You know, cackle berries. Donuts won’t do you much good.”

“No, thanks, mother. Well, maybe just a bite.” She reached over and forked a mouthful off his plate.

 

“Hey!”  
“These are pretty good. You can fix me some.”

“And you can hoist your butt out of that chair and wait on yourself.” He picked up his coffee cup. “Fix me some more while you’re at it.”

“Why, you male chauvinist!” She gave him a hard look and then gasped. “What happened to your face?!”

“McKenna and I had another misunderstanding after you left.”

“About me?”

“There were other girls there last night. Maybe we fought over Betty. Or Thelma. Hell, I don’t know.” He rubbed his forehead. “Maybe it was about you, after all.”

She leaned forward to touch the scraped place on his chin. “Does it hurt much? Oh, ouch, your eye!” She winced. “That must really hurt.”

He swiped her hand away. “I disinfected it once. Don’t contaminate it again.”

Her eyes narrowed as her hand hovered close to his face.

“Don’t slap me on the other cheek, if that’s what you’re considering.”

“No, I’d pick the same side,” she answered softly. “It’d hurt you more.” But she lowered her hand and stared at her coffee cup. “That is, if you’re capable of being hurt.”

“I am. Oh, yes, I am. Especially if it involves Tommy. But you, I don’t think you care if you hurt people. I doubt if you’re capable of caring for anyone. Just look at what you think of yourself.”

Amy drew her breath in sharply, but otherwise did not respond to him.

He glanced at her, but she turned quickly away.

Ray frowned. Had he really succeeded in hurting her feelings? That wouldn’t get him anywhere in dealing with her. He pushed out of his chair. “I’ll start those eggs. You need to eat.”

“No, I can do it.” She started for the stove, too. She tried to take the skillet out of his hand, but he held it away from her.

“Go sit down,” he ordered. “I’ll fix the eggs.”

She looked up, gave a little gasp of defeat, and felt tears spring into her eyes.

Ray frowned and touched her arm. “I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t very kind to a guest.” He nodded toward the table. “Go on. Go sit down,” he said softly.

She gulped and obeyed, knowing that any attempt at speech just then would end in crying. The simple show of kindness from him had nearly succeeded in producing tears where sarcasm had failed.

She shuffled back to her chair and sat down.

Ray beat the eggs together and started them to frying.

“Enjoy the show last night?”

She looked up blankly. “The show?”

“You know, the folk festival you went to see up in Great Falls.”

“Oh. That show.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Guess it was like any other folk festival. The music was great.”

“Sounds like you really enjoyed yourself. Is that why you’re sitting down in that chair so gingerly? Did your rump get sore from sitting out on the ground?”

“Yeah. I guess it did.”

“There was a lot going on last night,” he said as he stirred the cooking eggs. “Some woman was seen riding around the prairie on an Indian paint. The pony was  
wearing nothing but a halter. The woman was wearing less.”

“Really?”

He shoved a plateful of eggs and toast in front of her. “Anybody riding without a saddle would have one mighty sore rump today. Her knees probably won’t even touch together for awhile.”

“Poor lady.” She chewed a forkful of eggs. “I wonder why anybody would pull a crazy stunt like that?”

“I’ve asked myself that very same question,” Ray answered as he settled down to another plate of eggs. “And I’ve come up with several theories. First, it really was Lakota, come back to inspire her people. Second, it was some drunk making a mockery of folks around here.”

“And third?”

“Someone really does want to help the Indians and doesn’t know how, but is going to try in some twisted way to do some good. That could’ve been foolhardy, though. The pony could’ve fallen in the dark. Someone could’ve taken advantage of a naked woman out on the prairie. And, someone could’ve recognized her.”

“And was she recognized?” Amy asked casually.

“No, but if she had been, I, for one, would’ve gladly blistered her butt for her so she’d have two reasons to have a sore rear end this morning.”

“You’re always ready to blister somebody’s butt, aren’t you? Wouldn’t you rather have taken advantage of her? Or doesn‘t a beautiful naked lady make an impression on you anymore?”

They stared levelly at each other for several moments, then Ray stood to pour himself more coffee.

“You and Tommy must’ve been getting soda pop for a half hour or so last night, or you might’ve known that one of the girl folk singers fainted at the concert and twisted her ankle when she fell. She didn’t get to sing her set, and Peter, Paul, and Mary had to do an encore that they hadn’t planned.” He shoved a newspaper toward her. “It’s on the radio this morning, too. Everybody’s talking about it.” He raised his eyebrow. “Well, nearly everybody. Tommy failed to mention it, too.”

“Oh, THAT incident. That girl does that all the time. She’s accident prone.” Luckily, Amy knew that she was telling the truth on that one. It was common knowledge in music circles.

Ray sat back down and reached in his pocket. “Explain these, then.” He held out two unused tickets. “They were in Tommy’s shirt pocket. I found the shirt out in the front yard.”

“Oh, THAT’S where those tickets went!” She looked at him innocently. “Why, those are your tickets, Ray. The ones that you and a friend were supposed to use, don’t you remember? We asked you to go along. Remember?”

He crumpled the tickets in one big paw and gave her an evil smile. “You’re good, missy. I do have to give you that much credit.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” She didn’t like lying to anyone, but somehow it didn’t seem to count when she was dealing with someone like Ray. She innocently went back to work on her plate.

“This shit here this morning is trivial stuff, missy,” he said softly. “And I can put up with a whole lot. But don’t let it hurt Tommy, because that’s one thing I just won’t stand for. I can forgive a lot, but not that.”

She set down her fork. “Just why do I have to curry your forgiveness? Who appointed you God?”

His face darkened. “Don’t test me, girl.”

“Oh, it just isn’t that important to fight with you. Hear me, Ray, and hear me good. I will not intentionally hurt Tommy. And I would never hurt him just to get back at you. You just aren’t that important to me.”

Ray flinched, and Amy was amazed that she had managed to hurt him. It didn’t make her feel as good as she thought it would.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” she said softly. “Of course, I’ll consider your wishes. You’re Tommy’s uncle, and I couldn’t do otherwise. I’m sorry.”

“And if there was no Tommy?”

She pushed back her chair and stood. “Then I wouldn’t have any reason to be here, would I? We would’ve never met and I wouldn’t be a thorn in your side.” 

“Don’t think so much of your importance.”

She arched her eyebrow. “Then why are you howling like your side’s infected already?” She stamped off into the living room. There. The ball was back in his court.

Ray sat at the breakfast table and scowled at his coffee cup. Someday, he would blister that girl’s butt good for her.

Or kiss her.

He felt something soft contract deep inside him.

And that pissed him off.

He threw the coffee cup as hard as he could and watched as it shattered against the wall. Damn! Now he’d need to buy more crockery. And all because of one aggravating little girl!

Out in the living room, Amy jumped when she heard the cup break and realized how deeply she’d stirred him. She frowned. Should she be doing that?

Then she smiled. Of course, she should be!


	3. Chapter 3

Amy had driven into the small, neighboring town with Ray to buy a few supplies. They trod the wooden sidewalks of Harmony, and Amy felt that she had been transported back in time. The little town surely hadn’t changed much in the seventy years of its existence, except to get smaller. The bleached boards of the sidewalks were warped and noisy, but nobody would consider replacing them with cement. Harmony was a dying town and not doing it very gracefully. Death is never pretty, but Harmony was doing it the most humiliating way possible: from lack of interest. Nearly every other store was deserted, abandoned to the mice and ghosts that surely dwelt within the crumbling walls.

“Hey, man!”

Ray and Amy turned to the beckoning half-breed who huddled near a broken window of an empty General Store.

“Hey, Uncle Billy! How are you?” Ray turned slightly toward Amy and mumbled, “I’ll catch up.”

Amy clomped to a variety store and made a show of studying the sun-faded displays in the window. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the animated conversation between Ray and the grizzled old man. Then Ray slipped some money to the Indian whose smile was fiercer than anger would’ve made it. But something in its ugliness reminded Amy of Ray.

“Is that man really your uncle?” Amy asked when Ray rejoined her.

“I guess, not really. My grandfather’s younger brother knocked up an Indian girl, so that makes Billy my dad’s cousin. We’ve always looked out after Billy. His daddy sure as hell wouldn’t. Billy did all right for himself until a bull stomped him back in ‘49. Crippled him up, and whiskey did the rest. Cooked his brain. Always felt sorry for him and his ma. Understand she was quite a beauty until she had to raise Billy by herself. After she had him, there was only one kind of work she was good for. Servicing white men who disrespected her wasn’t easy. The trade made an old woman of her fast, and she died young.”

“Being a cowboy is dangerous work, then,” Amy said to get Ray’s mind off bitter memories of Billy’s mother. “How did Billy’s accident happen? Something go wrong on a ranch somewhere?”

Ray’s grin was ugly and vicious, and Amy knew that Billy’s ugliness came from more than any bull stomping. “Hell, he got that on the rodeo circuit. He was some bronco buster. He should’ve stay with that, but bull-riding pays more. But it’s also more dangerous.”

“It sounds like you’re proud of his injuries.”

“Just the way he got them. Got some of my own. I’ll show them to you, if you got the stomach for it.”

There it was again, that sudden lurch of desire for him. It was almost as though his coarseness attracted her to him. Trouble was, he knew what he did to her. He knew that he got her juices churning. The bastard!

“You rodeoed then?” she managed to ask in a level voice.

“Hell, we all did! Excepting Tommy, of course. I promised his ma that I’d steer him clear of it. Besides, ain’t no fun to rodeoing now.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh, it’s all such a business, anymore. Standings have to be taken into consideration, as does your tack. You can’t party all night and take the chance of doing poorly the next day. You’re riding for someone's supper, not just your own.”

“I thought that standings always had to be considered, even years ago. If you don’t do good in the standings, you don’t make the money to rodeo.”

“There’s still a difference,” he answered with a faraway look in his eyes as he stared down the main street toward the distance foothills. “All the romance is gone now.” He breathed deeply, and he and the girl both tried to ignore the fact that it was a sigh. “Or maybe the uselessness of trying anymore seems stupid. It’s all jaded. The promise of tomorrow is lost through decay and neglect, so there is no future in tomorrow. There‘s no glorious future to fight for. It‘s all bleak. The old timers didn‘t have to face bleakness. They had a lot of trials, but never bleakness. And lack of interest.”

Amy decided that he wasn’t talking about just rodeoing anymore.

His eyes were staring at the foothills again, but not seeing them. “But still you fight. Because that’s all you know how to do. It’s yours, and you’re hanging on to it.”

And just by his saying that, Amy could see what he was seeing: the generations of wranglers before him carving a living out of this harsh land and the Indians before that fighting to keep what they thought had been given to them by the Great Spirit. It was an unforgiving land, but it was theirs, and they intended to keep it.

They just had to keep telling themselves that it was important to keep it.

Ray and Amy trod a few more feet in silence.

“Buy me a cold one, missy, so we can get out of this damn sun for awhile.”

They headed into a bar and joined some other beer drinkers, but a knot of sadness enveloped them in spite of their attempts at camaraderie.

 

They rode back in the twilight, the western sky shot through with brilliant colors of a fierce sunset as though the sun hated to die that day. The two people were quiet as they traveled down the dusty road in the old pickup that seemed to rattle worse with each mile. Amy was engulfed by the sunset. Ray didn’t exist to her at that moment. Nothing did, except that brilliant, tortured sky.

“Her name was Malorka.”

“W-what?” Amy was jolted back into the present by Ray’s voice.

“Billy’s mother. Uncle Billy,” he explained to her puzzled expression. “The half-breed back in town.”

“Oh. Oh, yes. Uncle Billy.” She settled against the seat to watch the sunset, but already the sky was fading. That display was over for the day, might as well draw out the man for entertainment. He seemed willing to talk now without being cynical.

“Malorka. That’s a pretty name.”

“It’s what the white men named her. Billy’s mother had a real name, but it was something unpronounceable. I doubt if even Billy remembers her real name.’

“How sad.”

“No, what’s sad is what happened to her. You might say she was a modern day Lakota. She was just as pretty and idealistic when she was young.”

“What brought her down?”

Ray frowned “Sweet talk from my great-uncle. He promised to help her people. But all he did was impregnate her and ride back to town with satisfaction. She was shunned by the people she’d tried to help. She turned to the white people, and they let her keep a shack behind the saloon where she could her raise boy and ‘entertain’ paying customers.”

She shuddered. “That’s a terribly hard way to exist.”

‘That’s why we try to help Uncle Billy when we can.”

“But can’t something be done for Indians in general?”

Ray shrugged. “Too big a mess to fight.”

“But don’t you want to try to make life better for the Indians? Don’t you want to change things?”

He shot a level glance at her. “I’m no crusader, just a rancher.” He gazed across the prairie. “Besides, things have gone on a long time like this for the Indians. It was set in motion years ago and will continue long after I’m gone.”

“Social traditions are harder to fight than an armed enemy.”

“Huh? Yeah, I guess so. You kids think changes can happen in a day.”

Amy frowned. She didn’t think of herself as idealistic or youthful. Yet, she supposed she was. Ray was lumping her into a large group simply because of her age, and that was a form of prejudice. She opened her mouth to protest, knowing that she would only alienate his mind untrained to formal debate. 

But he spoke first. “I take care of my own, missy. And what my own cares about, which now, I guess, includes you. Maybe it’s not much what I can do, but it’s better than if I didn’t.”

To thyself be true, Amy thought. Ray might not know the educated words, but he understood the principle. He lived his philosophy. Just because he hadn’t gone to college didn’t mean he was stupid.

Amy realized with a jolt that she had been categorizing him, too, and that made her as guilty of prejudice as he was.

“I appreciate your concern, Ray, and for looking out after me.”

“I’d do as much for a drowning calf.”

“Well, thanks.“ She frowned. “I guess.”

“We’re about as different as they come, missy. I see a spoiled brat like you, and I wonder why Uncle Billy couldn’t have had just a little of the luxury in life that you’ve had.”

“What makes you think I’m a spoiled brat?”

“Running around the country, acting like you got the morals of an over-sexed tomcat. We might not have much out here, but we appreciate what we got. Nothing means much to you, and you don’t plan far into the future.”

At least he had the last part right. And the way she rutted around with Tommy, the first part probably seemed right to Ray, too.

“Uncle Billy never had a chance.”

“That happened a long time ago, Ray,” she said softly.

“Yeah, but it still galls me. I’ve got Indian blood in me, too.” He glared at her in challenge.

“If you mean to scare me by telling me that,” she murmured, “I’m not intimidated. Your Indian blood doesn’t shock me, or surprise me.”

“You knew I was Indian? What tipped you off?” He grinned without mirth. “My ugliness?”

“No. Your wildness.”

She stared at him and wouldn’t look away when he scowled at her. Finally, he growled and looked back at the road.

“And it doesn’t bother me, either.”

“What? My wildness?”

“No, your Indian blood. Besides, I’ve got the same stigma on me. I’m descended from the Mohawks and the Delawares.”

He glanced at her with surprise and interest.

“Hadn’t figured on that one, had you?”

He shook his head slowly.

“People forget that there were Indians out East, too. Their blood is bound to crop up somewhere. All it did for me was make my father seem inscrutable. I thought it was what made him Indian. I realize now it just made him distant.”

“What was your mother’s excuse?” He acted disgusted with himself. “Forget I asked that. That wasn’t very nice of me.”

“Tommy told you about my folks.”

“Yeah. And that was no way for them to treat their kid, acting like she was so much extra baggage. Or an embarrassment just because she was born. That‘s wasn‘t right of that to act like that.” Ray turned into the driveway, parked in front of the house, and shut off the engine. “I don’t care who she is.”

“I don’t know if I should feel validated or snubbed.”

Ray shoved the pickup keys in his jean pocket. “Just feel happy I’m not kicking your butt all the way to the bus station.”

She dared to ask the question that’d been puzzling her for days. “Why are you so hard on me, Ray?”

“This isn’t your home. It’s mine. And I aim to keep it intact.”

“It must not be very stable, if I’m such a threat.”

“You’re female. That always has been bad news for a man. Pretty women mean trouble.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a compliment.” He pursed his lips. “Don’t test me, missy. You don’t want me for an enemy.”

“Tommy would never forgive you if you chased me off.”

“That’s the only reason you’re getting to stay. He’d never believe that it wasn‘t my fault, either. That’s why I’m going to let you play your hand. And I’m betting on you, missy. You’ll slip up and show him what you really are.”

He stomped away, and Amy knew he wasn’t exaggerating.

 

One morning a week later, Amy shuffled barefooted into the kitchen where the two men were already at the breakfast table. She wore ragged cut-offs and an over-blouse that draped loosely down her arms. She yawned as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down beside Tommy.

“Flapjacks, again?”

“Feel free to improve on the menu anytime you want, missy. The stove is right over there.”

“YOUR stove?”

“Don’t, Amy....” Tommy warned.

“It isn’t my stove,” Ray mumbled as he stood up. “It isn’t anybody’s stove,” he mumbled as he headed for the back door. “Nothing belongs to nobody.”

“What’s wrong with him? Did somebody die?” Amy asked as she stifled another yawn. “Pass the syrup, will you?”

“Uncle Billy did.”

“Did what?” 

“Uncle Billy died.”

She closed her mouth with a snap. “What?”

“We got the word just a little while ago. Henry Two Eagles called.”

“I bet that’s what woke me up,” she said softly. “What happened?”

“Uncle Billy was found this morning out in the alley behind the hardware store. They don’t know exactly what happened, but there was no foul play. He abused his heart for years. It probably just stopped on him. Ray’s taking it awfully hard. He feels responsible. He thinks if he’d had Billy out here, he could’ve taken care of him.”

“That wouldn’t have worked Billy wouldn’t have wanted a nursemaid.”

“I know that and you know that and I expect Ray knows that deep inside, but it doesn’t do anything for his guilt. I think what bothers him the most is that there was no dignity in Billy’s life anymore. A person should have at least respect when he dies.”

“I wish there was something we could do. Tommy, do you know of anything?”

“No, but perhaps Henry Two Eagles or someone else in the tribe could advise us.”

She jumped to her feet. “That’s a good idea! I’ll go change and we can go talk to them. You can get away, can’t you?”

“Sure. Ray doesn’t feel like working today anyway.”

She glanced toward the back door. “Did Ray eat much breakfast?”

“No. No, he didn’t.”

She grabbed Tommy’s arm. “Why don’t you go out and get him to come back inside and eat? He can’t make himself ill over this. He’ll need his strength in the next few days.”

Tommy nodded and rose to do her bidding.

And maybe Ray would eat if she wasn’t in the kitchen. If this was the only way she could help, so be it.

She hurried out of the kitchen when she heard their footsteps at the back door.

 

The day of Uncle Billy’s funeral dawned cloudy and cooler than the dusty heat they’d been experiencing. For days, Ray had barely spoken as he’d moved woodenly through chores and meals, and he didn’t seem any more responsive that morning. When the Christian service for Billy started in the little white clapboard church, Ray sat between Amy and Tommy and didn’t move. Later, at the little cemetery clinging to the barren hillside, he stared dourly down into the hole that would be Billy’s grave and frowned.

Only later, at the drum ceremony at dusk at the Indian village did he seem to rejoin the living, and only then because he noticed that someone was missing.

“Where’s Amy?” Ray demanded, craning his neck. They stood before the symbolic teepee near the trading post. Most Indians lived in squat wooden cabins. Only the very old clung to the traditional teepees.

“She’ll be along,” Tommy answered by his side. He stood respectfully with one hand crossed over the other.

“Where is she?! She should be here! She’s a member of the family. It’s disrespectful not to be here!”

“Never mind, Ray. It’s okay.”

“Where--”

At that moment the drums that had been beating softly in the background quit. As if on cue, the clouds that had hidden the sun for most of the day now were parting to allow a glorious sunset. In the sudden hush the faint sounds of a rising breeze became audible.

A slight rustling at the tent flap of a teepee drew the attention of the onlookers, whites and reds alike. A group of Indians emerged from the teepee and walked solemnly forward.

Ray squinted at a girl among them, then he stiffened and his eyes opened wide. He made a strangled sound.

“What’s wrong, Ray?”

“What the hell?! That’s Amy! In the Indian getup. What’s she doing? I’ve got to stop her before she does something stupid!”

Tommy patted his arm. “Wait, Ray, it’ll be all right.”

“What?!” He stared at Tommy in disbelief.

“It’s something she wants to do, Ray. Let her.”

Amy wore a long sleeved dress with many tiers. It reached nearly to the ground. Silver feathers caught by turquoise beads fluttered from her ears. She looked like she was in a trance. Her eyes seemed to glisten and stare straight ahead instead of focusing.

Henry Two Eagles faced the crowd of mourners. “We are here to honor the spirit of Uncle Billy. Although his days were troubled while he was with us, he had an immortal soul which we come to honor now.” He reached back and drew Amy forward. “This is Amy, friend of Tommy Nolan. She is a Mohawk and Delaware from Rhode Island and other Eastern states. This woman is not of our tribe, but she is a child of the universe and therefore can speak. Amy did not know Uncle Billy; she met him only once. But she believes in the dignity of each man’s life and wants to show her respect for one man’s existence. Amy is blessed with a wonderful gift, and she wants to share her gift with us by celebrating the life of Uncle Billy. For this sharing, we will thank her, in Uncle Bill’s name and for ourselves. It is indeed wonderful to appreciate a culture not your own; but as Amy told me, she has come here to celebrate our similarities, not our differences. For we must all face Death in our own time and in our own way. Let us hope we will all be brave. Amy?”

Henry Two Eagles held his hand out and Amy stepped forward. She faced the sunset, but seemed to glow from some hidden source within herself. Ray and Tommy could see her nearly in profile. She held her arms, palms upward, toward the sky, and began to sing.

Great Spirit, calm the raging rivers  
Launch my canoe in quiet streams  
Don’t let it drift through muddy waters  
Or through this life of many dreams.

Amy sang in a clear voice that hit every note with a sure tone. Every line was accented on the fourth syllable, and she paused just slightly to accentuate it.

My people roamed the rolling prairie  
To hunt the mighty buffalo  
Their time is past as is their glory  
They beckon me; I’ll gladly go.

The high notes sent shivers down the backs of the silent listeners. But when Amy paused between verses, the sloughing of the evening wind made them shiver more.

Great Spirit, hear one of your people  
As I approach the distant shore  
My feats I offer by the armful  
To live with thee forever more.

Ray and Tommy managed to exchange a quick glance of amazement, but were powerless to move further. They were as mesmerized as the Indians. They knew they were sharing a great experience together. The girl’s singing was nearly a religious event.

I walked this land as you yourself did  
I did some deeds that brought me shame  
All these my faults that I myself hid  
Without your help I can’t reclaim.

Tears stung at Ray’s eyes. The words were touching something deep inside his being. How proud Uncle Billy would have been of his song! No matter how far a man sinks, he can still remember the ideals that once guided him. Those ideals were never really lost. Like childhood, they lie within us to offer hope for redemption and respect for ourselves.

Ray threw back his head and filled his lungs with air. The girl’s song expressed what was in his heart, but what he could not articulate. She was a gifted artist, and he felt grateful for her talent.

Great Spirit, guide me on the pathway  
Hear this my earnest, heartfelt plea  
Judge by a heart that loved thee always  
Allow my soul to bide with thee.

The wistful song ended and the sound of the sloughing wind was heard again. the sun slid behind the horizon and winked out for the day. Nobody moved. Then the drums began playing softly, and Amy’s audience seemed to come out of its trance.

Indians began to mill around Amy and shake her hand. She smiled slightly and accepted their thanks, but she still seemed to be in her trance.

“How did she come up with that?” Ray asked Tommy.

“She’s worked on it, off and on, for several days with Henry. She wanted to do something for Uncle Billy, so I brought her on out here to the Indian camp. She must’ve really soaked up their culture. She seems to be on their wave length.”

“Come on, Tommy, let’s go talk to her.”

“You aren’t mad at her, are you, Ray?”

“For doing something beautiful and sensitive like that song?” he asked as they threaded their way through the crowd. “I’m not that thick-headed.”

“You mean, she finally did something you liked? You know, Ray, she isn’t such a bad kid when you get to know her. I really would like it if you two were friends.”

“Let’s not get carried away. But you are right about one thing. There’s good in all of us, Tommy. Sometimes it’s just a little hard to find in some people.”

“And, maybe, sometimes, it depends on the person who’s looking,” Tommy said gently.

Ray cast a critical look in Tommy’s direction, then turned his attention to Amy. “Miss Amy....” He’d been prepared to say something blithe to her, but the beauty of her song came back to him as he gazed at her glowing face. Then, too, he couldn’t be flippant with someone who had the shine of spirituality about her. He took both of Amy’s hands in his. “Thank you,” he whispered as he squeezed her hands. “Thank you.” He was so overwhelmed, he couldn’t say anything else. “Uncle Billy would be so grateful. And so am I.”

She gazed up at him without recognition. He frowned and moved away so someone else could speak to her.

A few feet away, he stopped Tommy. “What’s wrong with her?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong with her?”

“She didn’t know me. Hell, she didn’t even know you.”

“Well, she worked pretty hard on that song. I guess she probably didn’t stop to eat or sleep.”

Ray started walking toward her. “Amy, are you all right?”

And just by questioning her, she lost her strength. Amy’s head tilted back and her eyes closed. Her knees buckled and she began to slide to the ground. A sigh of concern traveled through her audience, but nobody moved to help her. Nobody, except one.

Ray shoved two Indians aside and scooped her up before she reached the ground. He hoisted her up into his arms, and she lay crumpled against his shoulder. Her arms dangled and her skirts fluttered as Ray carried her toward Tommy’s pickup.

“You idiot,” Ray snarled at Tommy. “This has all been too much for her. It’s a wonder she ever made it through the song.” He deposited Amy in the pickup seat. “I’ll drive. You get in and hold her steady so she doesn’t fall. We’ll see if we can keep her from joining Uncle Billy.”

“Is she in that much danger?” Tommy asked with fear in his voice as he climbed into the pickup and wrapped his arms around Amy.

“Hell, no!” Ray yelled as they drove off. “She’s just exhausted and half starved.”

“What are you so mad about, Ray? We thought you’d be pleased.”

“About the song, yes! About half killing the girl, no! You should’ve had more sense.”

“I couldn’t stop her, Ray. It got to be an obsession with her. Don’t be hard on her, Ray. She’ll be crushed if she thinks you’re mad at her.”

Ray mumbled something.

“What?” Tommy asked.

Ray gripped the steering wheel and released it. “I’m not mad at her. I’m just upset at what she did to herself.”

“You do like her!”

“I’m worried about her. I don’t know if liking has anything to do with it.”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m glad that you’re finally accepting her.”

Ray didn’t answer, but pursed his lips and looked out into the passing prairie. 

 

Amy had visions of Tommy changing her Indian garb to her granny gown. She groaned in protest, then fitfully dozed. Warm water gently sponged her feverish face and roused her. It felt so soothing and was so considerate that she turned her head to the ministering hand and kissed it. The hand froze. Mystified, Amy looked up into Tommy’s face and recognized Ray, instead.

Her eyes widened. “Oh,” she whispered.

“Look, Ray, she’s awake. How are you feeling, Amy?”

But Amy continued to stare at Ray and did not answer Tommy. Ray was frowning, but his eyes were soft with concern and tenderness. It was that softness that intrigued Amy and gave her peace. She smiled with a dewy softness of her own, found a comfortable place for her face in the palm of his rough hand, and went to sleep.

 

Amy ate a late breakfast and sat on the front porch afterward. Tommy told her to rest and she didn’t argue. She was so tired. And the sun was so warm and comforting. She slipped into the pulling drowsiness without a fight.

“How are you this morning, missy?”

She slowly opened her eyes, squirmed lazily, and gave Ray a languid smile. “Better.” She shook the sleep from her limbs. “Hope I didn’t embarrass you yesterday.”

“Not until you took that header. And then I wasn’t exactly embarrassed.” He shook a finger at her. “Next time, eat!”

“Yes, mother.” But she felt only warmth and friendship for him. Maybe he wouldn’t be so hard on her now. After all, part of the reason she’d done the song for Uncle Billy was so that Ray would like her more. 

A sudden thought crossed her mind: What if it had been her only reason?

“Hmm? What? I’m sorry. My mind was drifting.”

“I said, don’t go doing anything too strenuous today.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t go spoiling me now.”

“Didn’t say I was going to do that.” He grinned his evil grin. “Tomorrow will be soon enough for you to start bailing hay.”

She grinned back and swatted at his arm. “Oh, you!” No, she didn’t want to weaken this new friendship with him. In fact, she felt very much at ease with him. 

He settled into a chair near her and sighed in satisfaction.

“I hope I didn’t hurt your back last night when you carried me.”

“A little thing like you? You need to put more meat on your bones.”

She grinned. “You mean, by eating the way you do?” she said, alluding to an old, familiar topic with them.

He had to grin, too. “If that’s what it takes.”

“If I’d done that before, I would’ve been fatter. Then I might’ve hurt your back when you caught me and carried me.” She sobered. “I know we’ve had our differences, and I’m glad you were a big enough person to see beyond that and help me.”

He shrugged. “The drowning calf thing again,” he said, trying to lighten the moment.

A smile flickered over her face, but she wouldn’t allow him to lessen what she had to say. It was too important to her. He was becoming more than just the over protective uncle. She sobered again. “Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I appreciate what you did for me, and I want to thank you.”

He’d caught her sober mood and he said what he was really thinking. “It was wonderful what you did last night, and I’ll never forget it. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I appreciate what you did, too. As for catching you.” He drew in a jagged breath and pulled himself up. “As for catching you, I had to do that. I just couldn’t stand to see you get hurt.”

Her eyes snapped up to his. “What?”

He straightened. “I mean, it’d been a terrible thing for you to have fallen after the wonderful thing you’d just done. I’m glad I saw what was going to happen. Tommy would have caught you, but he hadn’t realized that anything was wrong with you.”

“And you did.” She laid her hand on his arm and gazed up at him with a soft smile on her lips. “Thanks.”

He drew back as if she had struck him. “Ah, yeah. Anytime.” He looked around as if he was trying to find something. “Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, take care of yourself.” He jumped to his feet and tromped off abruptly.

 

She stared after him, wondering if the same electrical shock had gone through him as had gone through her when she had touched his arm. By the way he was acting, it obviously had. Now, she just had to figure out if this was a good reaction for them, or a bad one. 

Maybe he had needed time to figure out the same thing, too, and had left to do that very thing.


	4. Chapter 4

In the days following Uncle Billy’s funeral, Ray didn’t act as angry toward Amy, and they were almost peaceful together. Even Tommy appreciated the new calm around the ranch house. Finally, they seemed to be some sort of team. It was almost as if Amy belonged at the ranch now.

 

Out on the range, Amy was hunting down the men to give them lunch. They were fixing fence and miles apart. Tommy ate near a sluggish stream, then Amy left him in search of Ray.

Amy drove up in the pickup and found Ray and his horse huddled near a scrubby looking tree. Ray was all bent over and seemed to be working intently on something.

“Hi!” she greeted brightly. “Ready for lunch?” She pointed over her shoulder. “I’ve got hog shoulder meat and gravy over fried potatoes just the way you like it. You know, with all that fat just glistening on it? And not a green vegetable in sight, so you won‘t have to worry about getting any of those nasty vitamins and minerals.” She shivered with mock anticipation.

He gave her a humorless glance. His face seemed grim for some reason, and pale. “Get over here and give this thing a pull.”

She stopped dead. His hands seemed awfully close to Ray, Jr. “Huh?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” He held up his left hand. “Pliers, missy. I don’t know what you thought I was suggesting.”

“Now who’s got his mind in the gutter?” she wanted to know as she walked up to him with her arms swinging. “You know very well what it sounded like.” Dry grass crunched under her feet, and Ray’s horse glanced over its shoulder at her approach. “Why does everything you say seem to have a sexual connotation to it?” She stopped short and stared. “My God! What did you do to your arm?!”

His right shirt sleeve was rolled up, revealing a length of dirty and bloody forearm from his elbow to his leather gloved hand.

Ray nodded at the scrubby looking tree she’d passed. “I tangled with that damned thorn tree over there. I got most of the thorns out except for this one. It’s big and embedded pretty deep. I can‘t quite get it out.” He held out the pliers again. “Think you can make a try for it, Sis?”

Amy blanched, but saw the ashen color on his sweaty face and knew she had to stay in control. She slowly nodded and took the pliers out of his hand.

“Okay, what do I do?”

“What else? Grab it and pull!” He planted his feet firmly and held his right  
elbow with his left hand. “Damned chaps! I should’ve worn them on my arms.”

“Hindsight is better than--” She frowned as she tugged. “The thorn won’t budge. It’s really stuck in there good, isn’t it?”

“The skin’s holding onto it tight. You’ll have to cut it to free the thorn.”

“Cut it?! Cut your arm open?!” She shook her head. “No. No. I can’t do that.”

“Just a little bit. You won’t need to go making any big gashes.” Her shaking head made him mad. “Damn it, girl! I’m not asking you to cut off my arm!”

She blanched. “But I can’t cut you,” she said in a sudden rush of breath that surprised both of them. “I--I couldn’t cut anybody!” she said in an attempt to make the situation impersonal again.

“Do you plan to drive me into town with this damned piece of wood stuck in my arm?! Missy, I can’t make it on my own. I’ll pass out. You’ll have to help me. Please.”

She nodded.

“The knife’s in my jeans pocket. There. Yeah, that one.” He grinned at her. “You know, any other time I’d enjoy having some gal fishing around in there.”

She gave him a cool look. “Shut up, or I’ll open the blade before I take the knife out. Then the point will be down, and I might have to do some jabbing around before I can retrieve the knife.”

“I get the picture, missy.” He frowned. “Cruel little minx, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes a person has to be,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone in her coolest voice. She glanced at the knife in her hand and opened the blade. “Looks sharp,” she said. She stared into his eyes and arched an eyebrow. “Shall we begin?”

Ray licked his lips. “Okay, just make a slit in the skin on a line parallel with the thorn.” He jerked as the new pain registered with his senses. Fresh sweat popped out on his face. “That’s good. Now, cut the other way, up and down. Yeah, that’s it.” He grimaced, but found he could endure the fresh pain. Amy didn’t look so good, though, and he had to keep her halfway angry so she could finish helping him. “I think you’re enjoying this.”

“Yeah. It’s a blast.” She paused to wipe sweat off her face and smeared his blood across her cheek. She looked up to see an amused expression on his face. “What’s so funny?”

“You are. Your makeup’s gotten all messed up. I like it that way.”

“You’re crazier than a liquored up Indian.”

“And I’m watching to see just how tough you are.”

Her eyes coldly accepted the challenge. “I’m as tough as you are, cowboy.”

“I’m finding that out. Okay, tough guy, grab a hold of that thorn and pull!”

She grabbed his wrist, planted her feet firmly, clamped the pliers on the thorn, and pulled. The thorn didn’t budge.

“Pull, damn it! Pull!”

“It’s fighting me!” She felt herself sicken, but knew she had no time for vomiting. All of her careful resolve and the anger he’d given her were ebbing away.

“Pull, damn it! Or are you nothing more than a little street slut with no more ambition than to screw the pants off any chump dumb enough to take you on?!” 

“That’s not true!”

“Then prove it! Pull, damn it! I said to--”

Amy twisted the pliers, Ray screamed, and the thorn loosened. Another twist, and the thorn shot out and Amy nearly hit herself in the jaw with the pliers.

Ray slumped and threw his left arm around Amy’s shoulders to keep from falling. She grabbed him around the waist and steadied him.

“I hurt you!” she sobbed. “I hurt you!”

“Hush. It had to be done. Hush now. We’re not through yet.”

She straightened, dabbed at her eyes, and looked at his bleeding arm. “W-what? What has to be done? Bandage it?”

“Let some blood run first.”

She gulped. “It is.”

“No, make it.”

She looked at him with true puzzlement. “What?”

“Make it run more, Amy.” He swallowed because he knew he was asking for more pain. “Make more blood flow.”

She fluttered her hands, as if pushing him away. “I can’t do that!”

“Yes, you can! Make some more blood run, damn it! You have to get rid of the poison. Have you suddenly gone deaf, girl?! I don‘t want to lose my arm!”

She shook her head. Tears were standing in her eyes. “It’s so tender already.”

“Here, I’ll do it then!” He struggled, but couldn’t manage with one hand. 

“If you’re so bound and determined--” She grabbed his arm and spread the wound apart. She heard him gasp and felt him shudder as bright blood poured over her fingers and across his arm.

“That’s, ah, enough.” His voice sounded ghastly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He looked up and forced a thin smile. His face looked gray under his summer tan and the smile was very funereal. “It had to be done. I’m glad you had the guts to do it.”

“I guess that’s a compliment.” She shrugged. “Okay, now what? It looks like before I can take you into the doctor’s, I’ll have to bandage your arm or you’ll bleed all over your precious pickup.”

“First, you’ll have to disinfect the wound.” The initial pain of the thorn removal was abating, and Ray could think a little clearer.

“How?” she said, looking around. “I don’t have any disinfectant with me.”

“Oh, yes, you do. Piss on it.”

“What?! What did you say?!”

“You heard me right. I’ll lean over and you can just squat over my arm and--”

She blushed a crimson red. “Are you crazy?! That’s vulgar! I’d no sooner do that then, then-- Do you think I’m crazy?!”

“No, just impractical and too modest. Urine is a wonderful healer. It’s warm and has all those wonderful salts in it.”

She turned away, insulted, and crossed her arms. “Count me out on this one, buster! Piss on your own arm. You’re built for it. You wouldn’t even have to squat.”

“Now, who’s vulgar? I’d disinfect myself if I could manage the procedure. But it takes two hands to line things up properly, and I’ve got just the one good hand.” He grinned. “Want to help me?”

She turned back to him with flaming face. “You’re on your own, cowboy! Rack it out for yourself! Piss all over yourself, for all I care!” She folded her arms again in anger.

Just seeing how far he could push her before she became angry seemed to satisfy him. “Okay. Well, maybe we won’t have to go that route today. I guess we’re close enough to town and Doc’s antiseptic that I won’t die soon.”

She unfolded her arms. “You just did that to see what I’d do?!”

“Here. How about tying my handkerchief around my arm for me?”

She crossed her arms again and began to stomp around in a small circle. “I can’t believe you did that!” she muttered.

“Here. Will you just--”

She grabbed the ends of the handkerchief that he waved at her. “Gladly! Just let me know what else I can do for you! Blow my nose on your shirt? That probably makes a magic potion that’d ward off mosquitoes!”

“Will you just watch what you’re doing--”

“What other home remedies could I provide?! Hmm?” She shot him an angry look. “Think, cowboy! Think how you can make an ass out of the little city girl some more! She’s such a gullible little creature! It should be easy!”

“Watch what--”

She cinched the hankie down tightly, and Ray jerked in obvious pain.

“Sorry,” she mumbled “That’s why I try not to get mad. I get mad all over.“

“I’ll remember,“ he said, breathing hard.

“I can’t calm myself down. I’m sorry I hurt you. Again.” She finished the bandage quickly, but then her hands began to shake in delayed shock and she couldn’t control them. She clasped her hands together, but they still shook. “Darn it!”

Ray planted one grimy gloved hand on her arm. “Hold on, Amy,” he said softly as he looked into her face. “You’ve been through a lot in the last few minutes, but I still need you.” He pinched his lips together. “Look, I’m sorry, too. I should’ve realized how frayed your nerves could get to do this for me. When I did realize, I thought that a little humor might help, that’s all. I didn‘t mean to hurt you.”

She gave him a quivery smile. “And I can’t take a joke too well, can I?”

“Maybe that’s because it had too much of an edge to it,” he said as his left hand massaged her right arm and left her shirt dirty. “You can torture me some more, if you like. Just double up that little fist of yours and sock me on top of that bandage. I probably deserve it.”

She bit back a smile because it felt like it could dissolve into tears. Banter, not sentiment, was what was needed. “I’m not a sadist, despite what you think.”

He smiled. “Now who’s getting a sexual connotation into everything we say? I have heard of de Sade, Amy, and I do know that he thought sexual gratification was achieved by torturing the beloved. Are you sure you’re not a sadist? You sure as hell haven‘t been tender to me.”

“What makes you think that you’re the beloved? Maybe I just like to torture because I’m mean.”

“You’re many things, missy, but you’re not mean.”

“I’m not a masochist, either, cowboy. And your offers of blistering my butt do not leave me weak in anticipation.”

“They weren’t meant to. A spanking is meant to punish, not entice or provoke a sexual confrontation.”

“In some circles, that’s true.” Her eyes looked up with sparks in them. “In other circles, it’s the essence of a relationship.”

“And this conversation is all horse pucky. I’m standing here bleeding to death--”

“The bandage is secure. You won’t bleed to death.”

“--with infection threatening to rage through my system--”

“That was a nice, clean thorn cleansed by prairie air.”

“--while my only savior is spouting God-knows-what drivel that’s making even my horse yawn--”

She grinned. “Everybody’s a critic!”

He looked down at her. “Are you better now?”

She frowned and remembered his injured arm.

“You’re doing fine, Amy. But we aren’t out of the woods yet. You have to drive me into town.”

She was finally understanding that he was trying to calm her down with his banter. Well, two could play that game, she decided. She could put an edge on anything that came out of her mouth, too. “Well, come on then,” she said, taking his arm.

They fell into step beside each other.

“Will I have to lance anything along the way?” she wanted to know. “Maybe I’ll have to stop and brand a herd of wandering steers for you.”

They were stupid remarks, but showed her present frame of mind: wrung out, but still gritty. It also got the response she desired: a grin, albeit a mighty exhausted grin. It showed her that he was wrung out, but was still gritty, too.

“Lord, I hope not. Enough has happened for one day. Chessly will be okay tied up to the fence until we get back here for him,” Ray said as they walked back to the pickup.

“That’s a stupid name for a horse,” she said as she held the pickup door open for him.

He sat down with a sigh, then managed a grin. “Don’t tell Chessly that.”

She shook her head, mumbled something that sounded like, “Cowboys!,” and slammed the door shut.

Amy turned the ignition on and, with a cough, the pickup roared into nervous life.

“Chessly liked the name when I whispered it into his ear. He pointed his ears right up, and whinnied.”

The gear shift was cranky and Amy forced it into drive. She shot Ray a barely tolerant look. “That’s because your breath tickled his ear.” She aimed for the distant road and watched as the curious horse slowly disappeared in the rear view mirror.

“I understand that girls like to have their ears tickled that way, too,” Ray said, much too casually.

“I expect you’ve already done your share of research along those lines.”

“There’s always room for more incoming data.”

She glared at him and did not see the hole in their path until the pickup bounced through it.

“Humph!” He grabbed his arm and winced. “Watch where you’re going!”

She gripped the wheel and fought for control. “Did I hurt you?”

“Forget me, and worry about the pickup!”

“It’ll take more tumbles than you can!”

“Yeah, but it’ll cost a hell of a lot more to replace than I would.”

“You sure don’t put a very high price on yourself.”

“I’m a realist, lady. Cowboys are a dime a dozen. Horses and vehicles are valuable because they are transportation. Out here, everything and everybody is judged by its worth to the world.”

She pulled the pickup onto the oiled road and turned toward town. “Really? And how do I stack up?”

“Right now, pretty good. Your stock’s increasing in value, missy.”

She smiled. “That’s always good to hear.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, though. The jury’s still out on you.” He nodded down the street they were approaching. “Looks like Doc’s at his office. Guess I won’t die today.”

“Well, we all get bad breaks once in awhile, don’t we?” she said as she pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine. “Well,” she said brightly. “Shall we go in and let the good doctor torture you awhile?”

“You just can’t wait to hear my screams, can you?”

She helped him out of the pickup. “I told you, I’m not a sadist, at least not with you. You’re not my beloved.”

His face was pasty pale with a light sheen of sweat on it. Pain was shining in his eyes, but he was still scrappy as he grinned at her. “And I tell you, missy, you just don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Enough of your horse pucky! March!” She took the elbow of his uninjured arm and guided him forward in a no-nonsense manner.

But all of the way into the doctor’s office, Amy fought back the stab of excitement that had raced through her at Ray’s suggestion. No, maybe she didn’t want Ray’s hands on her to punish her. But if he was doing something else, say caressing her, maybe she’d be more than willing to let him do what he wanted.

There went that thrill of excitement again.

 

The wizened old doctor frowned at Ray. “Who did you say pulled that thorn out of your arm?”

Ray looked up from where he slumped on the examining table and nodded at Amy. “She did.”

Doctor Gray looked over the top of his glasses at the slight girl. “That took a lot of courage, miss.”

“She’s a real Western woman, all right, Doc.”

Amy blushed with the unexpected praise. Ray hadn’t been that nice to her when they were alone on the prairie.

Doc threw Ray’s bloody hanky into the trash can. “I’m surprised he didn’t want you to urinate on the wound.”

“He suggested it,” Amy answered. “Is that really a cure?”

“Is that what you told her, Nolan?” 

Ray shook with laughter and didn’t answer.

“It’s a folk remedy, miss,” the doctor explained to Amy. “Some people swear by it, though.” The doctor looked at Amy over his glasses. “Others swear at it.” He saw Amy give Ray a stern look. “I think you’re in the last category.”

Amy crossed her arms. She was not amused by Ray’s humor. Ray turned away to hide his laughter, and then stiffened as the doctor probed the wound and hit a particularly tender spot.

“Ouch, Doc! I’d swear that Amy is ‘helping’ me again.”

“Just be glad that she happened along. And how do you repay her? You tell her that wild yarn about urine cleansing a wound.” Doc glanced at Amy. “You have to watch these cowboys. They do like to have their fun.”

“You mean--”

“Using urine to treat an injury is an old wives’ tale. Some people still may practice it. Hell, some people still might even use it for earache. My mother did. My brothers and sisters and I smelled pissy all through country school. But so did everybody else. I’d thought we’d come further than those old ideas, though. I’d thought Ray here would’ve known better.” He started to wrap a gauze bandage around Ray’s forearm.

Amy glanced at the cunning smile on Ray’s face. “I think he was just pulling my leg, Dr. Gray.” And maybe just trying to get my goat about exposing my bottom to him, she thought, but didn’t say that aloud. And there it was again, that stab of sexual awareness. And she saw that Ray’s eyes seemed to say that he’d noticed her interest and mocked her for it.

The wizened old doctor put the finishing touches on the gauze bandage and looked at Amy. “You can have him back now.”

“He’ll be okay?”

The doctor tossed his bandaging materials on a cluttered counter top. “In a few days. Keep him quiet. Make him stay inside, with you.”

Amy tensed and Ray grinned. The doctor misread what their reactions meant.

“Don’t take any guff off him, miss. Make him mind you.”

Amy breathed deeply. “You’re asking a lot.”

“I know. He’ll mend fast, or thinks he will. He’s tough as that old thorn tree he tangled with. But just between you and me, he’s more vulnerable. But I can’t tell him that. He wouldn’t listen to me. As his nurse, you’ll just have to put your foot down.”

Amy’s eyes widened. His nurse?!

Ray was trying hard not to laugh out loud.

Amy grimaced. “Thanks, Doc.” She glanced at the amused look on Ray’s face. Ray sat on the examining table and was enjoying the situation much too much. She arched an eyebrow. “I think I can handle him.” The bluff worked as a questioning look came into Ray’s eyes, and his grin abated slightly. She smiled sweetly at the doctor. “Are whips and chains allowed?”

Ray wavered between a grin and a frown.

But the doctor laughed. He had no knowledge of their previous conversation about sadism. “I don’t think those methods will be needed, although there will be times when you’ll be tempted to use them.” He shook his head with laughter. “Whips and chains, indeed! It’d set medicine back fifty years. Or forward fifty!” He laughed, but saw that nobody else was enjoying his humor. He sobered and became the professional medical man again. “The first thing you’ll have to do when you get him home is give him a bath.”

The room was pregnant with silence, and then Ray burst into laughter. Amy’s face turned white with shock. The doctor had no idea what he’d said wrong. Now he knew why he couldn’t have fulfilled his adolescent desire and become a comedian: He didn’t know what would make people laugh.

Ray managed to bring his laughter under control. He wiped at his streaming eyes. “A bath? Are you serious, Doc?”

“Well, of course, I’m serious,” the old man blustered, slightly miffed at the odd reaction his order had received. “Keep your bandage dry, but otherwise get cleaned up.”

Ray got a mischievous look on his face. “I expect as far as Amy would go in carrying out your orders is to hold my arm out of water. The rest I’d probably have to manage on my own.”

“Tommy can help you,” Amy mumbled. “I’ll get supper.”

“As well as you like to cook?!” Ray hooted. The bath prospect must really be bothering her. Ray couldn’t let that pass by. “Tommy fries a great steak. You can help me in the tub. Tommy says you’re great at soaping.” He relished the bright red that infused Amy’s face. “That way, everyone’s working at his, or her, best talents.”

Amy opened her mouth to object, but a frowning doctor spoke first. “Wait a minute.” He made a hand motion between the two of them. “You two aren’t, ah--”

“No, Doc, we aren’t,” Ray answered. “This is Tommy’s lady love, not mine.”

“Sorry,” the doctor mumbled. ‘Nowadays, it’s difficult to keep sweethearts straight. What with the damned Hippies and their free love, nobody knows who belongs to whom. They can’t even keep it straight, I expect!”

“We’re just getting old, Doc,” Ray said as he hopped off the table. He twisted his injured arm. “Humph!”

Doc grabbed Ray and steadied him. “Respect your wound, man! Don’t go acting so frisky. You’ve got a few days of recuperation ahead of you. And you aren’t going to like being inactive. Amy and Tommy will just have to make you mind.” Doc Gray glanced at Amy. “Young lady, I wish you luck with this one. Ray Nolan always was a kidder, and as ornery as they come.”

“If he gives me any static, I’ll just punch him on his sore arm. That’ll make him mind.”

“She would, too, Doc. She’s mean.” 

The doctor could also see how gently Amy was helping Ray to the door. The doctor didn’t believe one word of what Ray was telling him.

“Good luck! To both of you!” he called after them. After the door closed, he shook his head and muttered, “People! I’ll never understand them!” He puttered toward his desk. “Especially young ones. And old ones, like Ray Nolan, who should know better!” He shook his head.

 

Amy drove the pickup down the bumpy gravel road and sang along with Anne Murray on the radio. “Hey there, you with the stars in your eyes, love never made a fool of you, you used to be too wise.”

When the song ended, Ray reached over and turned off the radio.

“Why did you do that?”

“Can’t get much better than that. Nobody can beat Miss Anne Murray when it comes to singing--” He shot her a look. “--except for maybe you just now. I didn’t know you could sing. Well, I know you sang at Uncle Billy‘s funeral, but this, this was with an orchestra. You sounded great.”

“Anybody could, with her lead. You ought to hear how I sound in the shower.”

He gave her a lazy grin. “I’m available for listening, anytime you’re willing to demonstrate, either singing or body lathering.”

“Oh, you’re nasty! You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Either wearing a raincoat or bare butt naked, I’d be willing to watch... And listen, of course. Hey! Watch those bumps, will you? There’s still a few shocks left in this old buggy. I’d like to keep them working a little longer, if you don’t mind.” He glanced at her. “How do you know Anne Murray’s song, anyway?”

“You cowboys don’t have exclusive rights to her. A lot of her music is crossover. That means that everybody gets to enjoy her.”

“And what is your singing style?”

“Soft rock,” she answered before she thought.

Ray smirked. “I had to ask. Sure, you’re a soft rock singer.”

She shot him a look of barely contained tolerance. “Everybody’s a critic!”

“You’ve said that before.”

“Well, everybody is.”

He pointed. “Turn here and we’ll pick up my horse.”

She took her eyes off the road. “You’re in no condition to ride!” 

“You want to watch the road?” he suggested.

“Well, you’re not riding!”

The pickup bounced wildly and Amy screamed. She fought to control the wheel.

He grabbed the top of the open window. “I’ll be in no shape to do anything, if you take another cattle guard crossing that fast again.” He nodded back over his shoulder. “You missed the turnoff for my horse, you know. Wanna turn around?”

“No!”

“ Ah, Chessly, he‘ll be wanting his supper soon.”

 

“You still can’t ride!”

“Then let me drive.” 

She stared straight ahead.

He sat forward to be more in her line of vision. “There’s nothing wrong with my left hand. I CAN drive with one hand, you know. I’ve been doing it for a long time. See? Left hand. Right hand. Both hands.”

She still didn’t respond. 

“No hands?”

She glared at him. “You’re insane! No hands?!” 

“Come on, missy, I wouldn’t drive like that, not even out here all by myself where I couldn’t run into anyone else. I just wanted to see if you could still hear me.”

She turned her head slightly. “Of course, I can hear you!”

He studied her. “Is this the convalescence I’m going to have? If I don’t mind, my nurse will give me the silent treatment? Let me drive the damned pickup back, and you can ride the horse!” When that didn’t get a response, he began to get angry, and then suddenly he smiled. “But you couldn’t ride my horse, could you? Your rump’s still sore, ah, from all of that, ah, sitting on the, ah, ground that you did at the rock concert up in Great Falls.”

“There is another solution, you know. Tommy and I will come back for the horse after I get you safely home.” She nodded. “Yes, that’s what we’ll do.”

“Nothing I can say makes any difference to you, does it?”

“You’re injured. You can’t think clearly.”

“Stubborn little cuss--” He braced himself. “Watch out for that old coyote!”

She glanced at his gray face and slowed. “You’re a protector of coyotes now? I thought ranchers hated them.”

“What I would hate is for you to jerk the wheel to avoid the little pest and wreck us. And all you’d do to him is scare him.”

“Well, here’s the ranch house. You can stop worrying now. I won’t kill your precious coyote! Or you!” she said as she switched off the engine. “Sit where you are! I’ll get that door open for you.”

He grumbled, but waited obediently until she could help him to the ground.

“You can quit your fussing now.”

“Shut up, and lean on my arm.”

“Hell, girl, if I go down, we’ll both go down. A little slip of a thing like you can’t hold me up.”

“Will you just shut up and--”

They stumbled on he uneven ground. She felt him grip her arm and saw him wipe a hand across his face. “Guess you talked me into it.”

She snaked her arm around his waist, and he leaned against her. 

“Do you want to go back to the pickup and rest while I go get Tommy?” 

He could hear her controlled concern in her voice, and he shook his head.

“No. No, I can make it. Listen, if I start to go down, you move out of my way,” he said as he stumbled along.

“Shut up! Do your part!”

“Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” His hand gripped her flesh. “Notice what lengths I’ll go to for a free feel?”

“That’s not feeling, cowboy. That’s groping! And it’s not a very interesting part to grope, either. It’s just my waist.”

“But it’s solid, missy. And right now, that’s all that really interests me.”

Amy glanced at his perspiring face and wished that Tommy, anybody, would show up to help her.

The front door opened and Tommy looked out. Amy could’ve dropped Ray and kissed Tommy because she was so happy to see him. But, of course, she didn’t.

“Tommy! Help me!”

Tommy trotted toward them. “Ray? Amy? What happened?”

“Take his arm, Tommy, before I drop him.”

Tommy obeyed and pulled Ray toward the house.

Ray rallied and lifted his head. “Tommy? Where’s my other nurse? The pretty one?”

“Come on, Uncle Ray. I’ll get you into the house.”

Ray glanced over shoulder at Amy and winked. “She’s pretty, but bossy!” He looked back forward as Tommy dragged him across the porch. “Let me tell you, boy--”

They disappeared into the ranch house, and Amy paused to take a deep breath. Only then did she permit herself the small shaking spell that’d threatened to envelop her all the way home. She wrapped her arms around herself, bent, and moaned.

She straightened. She mustn’t let Tommy see her this way. She wiped her hair back over her head, stared up at the stars, and willed herself not to weep in exhaustion.  
Only now could she admit to herself how frightened she’d been. Before, there’d been no time for fear; but now it threatened to overwhelm her.

With determination, she got herself under control. That’s how Tommy found her a few minutes later.

“I got him to bed. Let’s go get his horse, so he’ll stop worrying about it.”

“Will Ray be all right here by himself?”

“He will, for the ten minutes or so that we’ll be gone. Come on, Amy, he’ll be okay. He’s tough. Cowboys are always getting hurt.”

“But I’m not used to being around them when they are. I hated being the one responsible for helping him. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid I’d hurt him.”

“But you did all right with him, honey. Ray said so, too.”

“He did?”

“Of course. He’s not as dead set against you as you think he is. Especially now. Come on. Let’s go get Chessly.”

She was still hesitant, but she followed Tommy to the pickup. Maybe she was just feeling guilty about leaving Ray alone. Okay, she’d drop it and hope for the best.

“Chessly? That’s still a dumb name for a horse. Where’d Ray get it?”

Tommy put the pickup in gear and headed down the road. “Where does a cowboy get anything? He even calls this old crate The Mockingbird.”

“The Mockingbird? Now, I’ve heard everything.”

“No, you haven’t!” he said with a laugh. “You ought to hear what he calls his penis.”

“What? I mean, he has a name for it, too?”

“You bet!” He grinned at her. “But I won’t embarrass him by telling you. Not even if you tickle me to death,.”

“I can try.” She arched an eyebrow. “Later.”

He winked. “In the meantime, we can think of a name for mine. How about ‘The Destroyer?’”

“Dreamer.”

Tommy laughed and held out his arm. “Slide over here, honey, and be friendly.”

She did, but she couldn’t help but think of the injured man back at the ranch. So even he had his limits of how far he would go to embarrass her. In a way, that knowledge made her feel very comfortable.

Amy snuggled against Tommy and watched the empty landscape slip by them.

 

Later, much later that night, after Tommy had helped Ray with his bath and they had eaten the beefsteak dinner that Tommy had fixed, Tommy put Ray to bed and Amy went into the bathroom to take her own bath. What a day! She was bone-tired and wanted nothing more than to soak in hot soap suds up to her chin. She hoped Tommy would leave her alone tonight. She knew she would be unresponsive to his lovemaking.

One sleeve of Ray’s soiled denim shirt hung out of the clothes hamper. Amy lifted the lid and shoved the shirt out of sight. She wanted no further reminders of the trauma she’d endured because of him.

Amy started the water running in the tub and reached for a clean towel and wash rag. That’s when she spotted her image in the mirror and saw Ray’s blood smeared across her cheek. He’d said he’d liked her makeup messy. 

She touched her face. His blood. She dampened her finger and took a sample off her face. She stared at the bloody smear on the tip of her finger.

She tasted it. And swallowed. She had him in her.

She was filled with disgust and desire.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and collapsed sobbing on the commode. “No! No!” What were they doing to each other?

Tommy knocked on the door. “Amy? Are you all right? Amy?”

She rallied. “Yes, Tommy.” She wiped tears off her face. “I’m all right. I was just letting the tub fill.”

“Okay. Just be careful in there. I’ll come and check on you every few minutes. I don’t want you to fall asleep and drown.”

“Thank you, Tommy. I’ll appreciate that. I won’t be long.”

She disrobed and slipped into the warm water. Tommy obviously thought a lot of her. Why couldn’t she give him anything more than friendly regards? Why couldn’t she be content with Tommy’s affections and forget his uncle? Maybe she was as wanton as Ray assumed she was.


	5. Chapter 5

Early the next morning, Tommy pushed back his chair from the breakfast table and gave his best engaging smile to his two companions. “Well, what are you two going to do with yourselves this morning?”

Ray carefully set down his coffee cup. He wasn’t proficient using his left hand. “K.P., I guess.”

Amy avoided the conversation. She concentrated on her plate of eggs and toast.

“Well, I might as well get to the choirs then. The steers are hungry.” He stomped across the kitchen floor, reached for his hat, and banged open the screen. “See ya!” He received nothing but grunts, so he let the screen door bang shut behind him. He could be heard walking down the plank walk and calling to the collie.

Inside, the kitchen was quiet. Finally, Amy pushed away from the table. “Guess I better go straighten up the bedroom.”

“I told Tommy the truth, missy. We’re on K.P.”

She leaned her hands on the table and stared at him. “So what does that mean?”

“It means you’re going to help me in here for a few days. You’re my nurse, aren’t you?”

She stood, already bored with the conversation. “I think the charade can end now.”

“But what about my need for your help?”

She folded her arms. “Oh, come on, now.”

“Look, I can do most things. But there are some things I can’t handle.”

“Churning butter, for instance?”

He grinned. “Cute. No, we aren’t that primitive around here. But it is nice to be able to cook from scratch. So, what’s it going to be today? Beef stew or dry bean soup?”

She unfolded her arms. “From scratch? Why can’t I just fry up some beefsteak and make some gravy to go with it? And a gallon of potatoes to go under all of it. Um-Um, you guys sure like those vittles.”

He chuckled. “Yes, we do. But you can cook those pretty good. Why not use this chance to add to your repertoire of recipes?”

“I didn’t even know that you knew words like that,” Amy said as she cleared the table. “Yesterday, de Sade. Today, French words. Will wonders never cease? Next, you‘ll tell me that you read Virgil, in the original Latin.”

He chuckled, then sobered. “We’re only in Montana, Amy, not in outer space. We do get knowledge, even out here. And in many ways, I’m better educated than you are. I can cook beef stew and bean soup from scratch.” He rubbed his hands together. “So, what’s it going to be?”

She rolled her eyes. “Beef stew, I guess. I’d better work myself up to bean soup.”

“Great! You can learn to make biscuits to go with it.”

“Biscuits? But I can’t do biscuits, too.”

He leaned forward. “Why not?” he mocked. “I do it all the time.” He lifted his eyebrow in challenge.

She groaned and walked a pile of dishes to the sink.

“What? Would you rather do the bean soup?”

“If it means skipping the biscuits today, yes.”

“Great!” He rubbed his hands together. “Bean soup calls for corn bread.”

She groaned again as she slid the dirty dishes into hot, soapy water.

“What? You don’t like either choice?”

“Was it that obvious?” she asked sarcastically. She swatted her hand across the dishwater, making soap bubbles scatter. “I don’t like K.P.!”

“I don’t, either. But we all like to eat, and my arm--”

“--is hurt. Yes, I know, and I’m your nurse. Yes, I know that, too!”

“You do have another choice, you know,” he said quietly. “The door out is always open.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, and they seemed to take each other’s measure.

“Do you want honey or butter with your biscuits, cowboy?”

Ray settled back in his chair and studied her defiant face a moment longer. Then an arrogant smile creased his ugly face. “Butter. No amount of honey could sweeten your biscuits.”

She turned back to her dish washing, but she could feel his satisfied smile on her back. Okay. She'd let him think he'd won that one.

 

“So, did you go to college?” Ray asked as he watched Amy cutting up vegetables.

“Me?” She shrugged. “I started, but I let it get away from me.”

“Would you ever go back and finish?”

“I don’t know.” She carried the pan of diced potatoes, carrots, and onions to the stove. “Just dump them in all together?”

“Stir them in.”

“Well, I knew that.”

“Let them simmer, but stir them often to keep them from sticking.”

She stirred, then nodded her head. “Maybe I will.”

“Will what? Stir often?”

“No, go back to school.”

“A college education is a good thing to have. You won’t be on this ranch forever.”

“You’d do anything to get me out of here, wouldn’t you?!”

“Hold it! I was just thinking of your future. Have you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, turning back to her stew.

“You have to have some kind of plan, girl. Don’t you have any ambitions? Any goals?”

She stared into space and saw a roaring audience and Brad singing. She saw Brad looking for her as he sang the lead-in for her solo. She heard the thunderous applause when she stepped back from the microphone. She saw Dusty screaming at her. She saw herself running.

“Amy?” 

“W-what?” Suddenly she was back at a ranch house stirring stew. 

“Don’t make mush out of those vegetables.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She placed the spoon on its rest on the stove top and moved mechanically away.

“Amy. What’s wrong, girl?”

She looked at him with stinging eyes. “I don’t know what I want out of life. How was it when you were my age? Did you know what you wanted to do with the rest of your life?”

“It was pretty cut and dry for me,” he said softly. “I’ve never lived anywhere else or had any other kind of work. I didn’t even serve in the Armed Forces. I wouldn’t know how to live any other way than the way I’ve always lived.”

“How wonderful for you.” She looked down at her hands, but that only made the unbidden tears brim in her eyes. She looked up and knew that he could see her swimming tears. “I’m afraid of the future. Isn’t that a terrible thing?”

Ray frowned, but could not answer her.

Amy turned back to the stove.

 

“These biscuits are good, Amy!” Tommy praised as he ate in obvious pleasure. “And the stew tastes just like Ray fixes it.”

She shrugged, but was secretly delighted with the accolades. “I had a good teacher,” she mumbled, trying not to notice that Ray was shoveling the food in, too. “Do I pass my exam, Professor?”

Ray could only nod because his mouth was full. He swallowed, then sipped water. “She’s my prize pupil, Tommy.”

 

Tommy looked from one to the other. “I’m glad this is working out, guys. I didn’t know what kind of war zone I’d find here at noon. Maybe gravy oozing down the walls. Or blood. I didn’t know how I was going to explain to the sheriff what had happened between you two.”

Ray wiped his mouth on a paper napkin and helped himself to canned peaches. “We’re all adults here, Tommy. We can act like grownups, can’t we, Amy?”

“That’s right,” she barely squeaked because her mind was racing. Ray must’ve made the same hard demands on himself that she had made on herself. They were going to be thrown together for a few days, and both realized it was going to be a whole lot easier on them if they didn’t taunt each other. Amy sighed. She liked that compromise just fine.

Ray pushed away from the table. “Why don’t you two wash up, and I’ll go take a rest.”

“Is your arm hurting, Uncle Ray?”

Ray flexed his hand. “Some.” He glanced at Amy and grinned. “And teaching isn’t exactly easy.”

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but saw that Ray’s smile was warm. “I’m a willing student, though,” she answered lightly, then hoped he saw no double meaning in what she’d said. He apparently hadn’t as she watched him leave the room.

After they’d started the dishes and were exchanging bright, casual small talk, the idea struck Amy that Ray had deliberately thrown them together. But that was okay with her. His plan fit into her resolve, too. She and Ray couldn’t exist in constant innuendo without something bad happening.

“W-what, Tommy?”

He gave her his best engaging grin. “I said, you’re going to drown in those soap suds.” He gave her a hug. “You know, you look so domestic that you deserve a reward.” He winked. “You know, the kind of reward that you like so much.”

Amy looked around furtively. “How can we? Ray’s in the house.”

“Right. That makes a whole outdoors where Ray isn’t.”

She giggled. “Where do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. But won’t it be fun to find one, or more?” He grinned when she rolled her eyes and covered her laugh with her hand. He grabbed her hand. “Come on. We don’t have to be back until chore time.”

“What about supper?”

“Leftovers.”

“Ray--”

“--will be okay. Come on, honey. Show me a little of that Lakota spunk!”

She hesitated. “Just so I don’t have to ride bareback. I don’t want to get so sore again.”

He grinned. “I was thinking more of the naked part.”

She arched an eyebrow coyly at him. “I think you liked seeing me do that.”

“And I think you liked doing it. You enjoyed the danger of being seen. I think you would’ve liked getting caught bare-butt naked by some brute of a guy.”

Her eyes flashed with sexual fires. “I did get caught by some brute of a guy. But you didn’t hear me complaining, did you? You didn’t know it, but the horseback riding wasn’t the only thing that made me sore that night.”

Tommy laughed and pulled her to him. “Oh, I do love being with you, Amy! I don’t know how I ever got along without you.”

She placed her fingers across his lips. “Don’t say that, Tommy. Don’t say that you need me.”

He snapped at her fingers. With a squeal of laughter, she pulled her hand away.

He held her at arm’s length, looked quizzically into her eyes, and rocked her from side to side.

“Why not, sweetheart? I need you very much. That’s not saying, though, that we’ll ever get serious.”

She breathed deeply. 

He winked. “Young boys will always need young girls. And not one of them willingly wants to get serious. That’s up to the girls to tell them they are. Right now, I’m interested in us. Come on, honey! Let’s go have some fun!” He took a playful swat at her rump, and she leaped out of his arms with a laugh.

Ray heard their laughter, the slamming of the back door, and the start of Tommy’s pickup. Ray lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He was feeling very old that afternoon, perhaps because Tommy and Amy seemed so young. He was more convinced than ever that his plan was wise. As long as he and Amy would be thrown together, he’d stop needling her. He’d also make sure that she and Tommy had time together. She was, after all, Tommy’s girl.

His plan seemed to be working, perhaps too well. He and Amy needed a cooling off period away from each other, and Ray aimed to see that they got it. He was certain that Amy had felt the sexual attraction between them, too, and knew that it could only turn out badly for them if they explored the feeling.

With a sigh, he turned his head to doze. He would be a model patient and uncle. After that, he just had to be cautious. Perhaps being impersonal was the best way to handle Amy.

 

Ray awoke, blinked in the bright sunshine that reached across the bedspread toward him, and stretched his stiff muscles. He wondered why he was sleeping in the middle of the day until he moved his right arm and the pain reminded him. He supposed this was what old age would be: napping in the daytime and not remembering why he wasn’t working.

He swung his long legs off the bed and sat staring down at his feet. Now he remembered the thought he’d had when he’d awakened. He wanted to search Amy’s things.

You old lecher! he chided. But he didn’t want to handle her panties. Well, he did. But that wouldn’t tell him anything except that Amy was a very highly desirable woman. And he already knew that.

He remembered a suitcase that she’d stowed in Tommy’s closet. She rarely handled the luggage, so it apparently contained none of her needs for daily living. Maybe, though, it would give a clue to her past and help explain her. She was troubled and he hoped he could help if he knew more about her. So, it was more with the thoughts of a Good Samaritan than a snoop that led him to Tommy’s closet and forced him to pull out her suitcase.

He hunkered down beside the battered piece of luggage and stared at it. Then he tried the clasps. Locked.

Key? Maybe in her purse. Had she taken it? He looked around. There on the dresser. Wait! Here among her scattered necklaces lay a key on a chain.

Ray bent and tried the key. It fit. He hesitated. Should he?

The lock clicked open and he wondered if the key had turned on its own.

Old clothing that Ray had never seen her wear lay in the case: a blue jacket dress that should’ve been an old woman’s and a gaudy pink top fit only for a child.

What was that? A ten dollar bill peaking out? He folded back the clothing and stared. Tens. Twenties. Hundreds?!

Ray sat back on his heels. There must be thousands of dollars in the suitcase. Amy was rich! Or at least well off. Why, then, was she living like a gypsy on a remote ranch?

Simple, Stupid! She was in hiding or on the run. She might even be wanted by the Law. But somehow he sensed that she wasn’t a criminal. Something was dogging her, all right, and she had sought a momentary breathing spell at his ranch. The question now became whether he could allow her to keep her sanctuary now that he knew there was probably something sinister in her past. Something unsavory must’ve happened. People don’t travel around with a suitcase stuffed full of money!

Ray dug down below the money and found a case filled with stage makeup. He felt in the side pockets and found a pair of gaudy, dangly earrings. Amy never wore anything like these flashy things. Her tastes ran to gold studs and tiny pearls. Her makeup was barely noticeable.

Ray stared at the articles that could’ve belonged to a stage actress before they could’ve belonged to Amy. The articles just weren’t the type of things that Amy wore. She had a fresh scrubbed, girl-next-door look. The makeup and earrings could’ve belonged to a tramp.

Or to the person Amy stole the money from.

Ray rocked back on his heels, threw his head back, and screwed his eyes shut in anguish. He beat his doubled fists on his legs.

She couldn’t be a common thief! She couldn’t be a criminal! Not Amy!

His head fell forward.

Why not Amy? 

Just because he felt an attraction to her didn’t make her a saint.

What did he really know about her?

Nothing, except that he didn’t believe she was a thief. She had troubles, and he wasn’t going to add to them by confronting her. He was going to take her on face value.

Ray locked the suitcase and returned it to the closet. He swirled the key and chain back among her other necklaces. At the door, he paused to look back at Tommy’s bedroom. If Tommy and Amy found happiness in this room, he wasn’t going to ruin it. If Amy moved on, he hoped he wouldn’t be the cause of it.

As he walked toward the kitchen, he realized he didn’t want Amy to leave and that he had joined in the conspiracy to abet her hiding.

Why he didn’t want Amy to leave he couldn’t face honestly yet.

 

When Tommy and Amy returned from their afternoon of cavorting, they were amazed to find Ray in the kitchen mixing up pancake batter. He was stirring left-handed, and Tommy and Amy dove in to help him. He never explained that the surprise was somehow an apology to Amy for invading her privacy and for forcing her to help with cooking. But, on the other hand, he wanted to convey the message that this ranch was still Ray’s home, and he would protect it from her infringement.

 

“Apple pie on a day like this?! It’s July! It’s been hot enough to have beefsteak cooking on the hoof walking around out there!”

Left handed, Ray pulled a pie tin out of the cabinet. “It’s cooler today. The pie can bake with the roasting beef. You had no objection to the oven being on when I suggested the meat. Maybe you thought dinner was going to be easy to fix today.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits. “One could always hope, couldn’t one?” she asked sarcastically as she sliced apples.

“Had one ever considered that an oven meal would free one up for other tasks?”

Amy sighed. “And what does one’s personal slave driver have in his warped, little mind?”

“Cleaning.”

She groaned, as she added sugar and spices to the fruit.

“The living room needs to be dusted.”

“Gee, Massa, how did you ever know?! Dusting is my favorite, all-time thing to do!” She dumped the apple mixture into a pie shell.

Ray chuckled. “I figured as much.”

“What’s your overall plan here? Give me a crash course in the domestic arts?” She slipped the pie into the oven.

“Somebody apparently needs to. Come on now. Let’s get busy.” 

She shut the oven door as she straightened and wiped hair back. “Us?! I don’t notice you doing much work!”

He raised his right arm. “Convalescing, remember?”

She wiped her hands on a dish towel. “You really are playing that injure to the hilt, aren’t you?”

“You’re some angel of mercy. You’re supposed to be giving me succor.”

“I’d like to be giving you something,” she muttered under her breath, “and it certainly isn’t succor.”

They were both enjoying the light-hearted banter that still had a hard edge beneath it. They were both seemingly easy-going people who had streaks of willfulness and stubbornness in their rockbound characters. Compromise with an underlying respect would be the only way they could get along.

“Come on, nursey,” he said, holding open the living room door. “I’ll keep you company. I’ll even play the radio for you.”

She unfolded a dust rag. “Gee, so I can keep up on all of the market reports?! So I’ll know if feeder cattle are still steady today?! And I was so hoping and praying that they were! And now I’ll know! Gosh, you really are all heart!”

“And you’re all mouth. But maybe you can be useful around here, after all. This’ll help you to earn your keep.” He pointed at a tall piece of furniture. “You can start with that bookcase.”

“It hasn’t been touched in years!”

“So it’s about time something was done for it, don’t you agree?”

Amy gamely tackled her dusting duties while Ray fiddled with the radio dial. Twangy country music filled the room, and Ray settled back into his rocking chair with a fishing magazine.

“And now, for today’s markets--Bulls are steady--”

Ray glanced up with a devilish grin. “That’s always good news.”

“--while feeder cattle are lower--”

“Aw!” Amy complained. 

Ray frowned at the radio. “That isn’t good news.”

Amy sighed. Markets! Now for a boring half-hour.

“You’re right.” Ray leaned forward and turned the radio dial.

“What? Did I say anything?”

“That martyred sigh spoke volumes. Besides, I caught the markets before breakfast.”

“Blue moon of Kentucky, keep on shining--” sang the radio.

“Blue grass?” Amy protested. “Please!”

“--your baby’s left you, and you got no place to dwell--”

Amy perked up, but Ray twisted the dial again.

‘I don’t care if he is serving in the Army now like a real man, I’m not listening to Elvis,” Ray muttered.

Amy grinned as she picked up a book to dust. BEEF PRODUCTION, 1928. That wasn't exactly current information, but it had been around so long that discarding it would have been like losing a family member. Amy replaced the dusted book on its sacred place on the shelf.

“Oh, my-I love, my darling--”

Amy froze. UNCHAINED MELODY.

“I’ve hungered for your touch--”

It was her singing. Bambi Love. Barbara Crider. Amy Lindell.

“--a long, lonely time--”

Amy reached for the radio. “You don’t like that kind of music. I’ll find another station for you.”

Ray waved her away and concentrated on the song that filled the living room. The singer’s, her, voice dipped and soared across three octaves, and Amy’s throat ached with the effort of not joining in. But Amy knew if she did, the effect would sound like stereo, and Ray would know.

Amy returned to the bookcase, but she couldn’t dust. Her hands aimlessly touched objects while the song crashed around her with its bittersweet memories of another girl’s life. How could it have been her life?

“Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea--”

Miles, the television actor, a perfect, unattainable love.

“--wait for me, wait for me--”

Brad, the lead singer, about as base as love can get.

“I’ll be coming home, wait for me!”

Ray--?!

“Who in the hell was that?” Ray demanded.

As if to answer Ray, the radio announcer said, “And that was Bambi Love, ladies and gentlemen, a girl singer who was on her way to a great career until her mysterious disappearance a few weeks ago.”

What great career?! Amy wondered.

The radio announcer continued: “Authorities suspect foul play, although no body has been found. Fans, though, have sanctified Miss Love and are making her into a cult legend.”

“Stupid people!” Amy twisted off the dial.

“Hey! I was listening to that!”

“Hear it, then!” She twisted on the dial.

“--wherever you are, Bambi Love,” the radio bellowed, “we love you and wish you well.”

Ray turned down the volume to more acceptable levels.

“Bambi,” the radio announcer continued, “if you’re within the sound of my voice, if you can still hear any voice, let us know that all is well with you. We love you and want you back home.”

Back home with Brad and that whole crazy Hollywood scene? Back home where Dusty wanted an accounting for the way she’d taken the money due to her? But it was her money! She had loaned it and she had earned it! It was the only thing she could be sure of.

“I have to check the pie,” she mumbled and ran into Tommy’s bedroom. She had to check her money. The feeling of security she’d gotten from this isolated corner of the world had been shattered by that song and by that plea. If the fans and that radio announcer only knew how false it all was--! She had to see her money! She had to be reassured.

She tossed aside necklaces, scratching for the chain with the suitcase key on it. Grabbing it, she tore open the closet door and dug out her suitcase. She sat on her knees, snapped the case open, and sat back, relaxed. The money was safe. She closed the suitcase and returned it to the closet. The way she had torn through it and the pile of necklaces had obliterated any traces of a search that Ray might’ve left.

On her way back to the living room, Amy remembered what she’d told Ray when she’d left. He must’ve thought she was demented. In fact, he still wore a puzzled look on his face when she rejoined him.

“Wrong turn,” she mumbled, headed for the kitchen, and did not even try to explain the noise she’d made in the bedroom.

She pulled the pie out of the oven.

“Needs to bake some more,” Ray said, over her shoulder.

Amy shut the oven door and set the pie aside to cool.

“Put the pie back in the oven, Amy.”

Amy pushed past Ray, hearing what he couldn’t.

‘Bambi, don’t you cry for me--’

“Amy?”

‘That’s sentimental shit, Brad.’

‘Sentimental shit sells records, darlin’.’

‘Somewhere out there before Vegas is a little town with synthetic grass and plastic roosters.’

“Amy, the pie--”

Amy shoved open the screen and slumped against a front porch pillar. She covered her mouth with one hand and stared out across the land that she’d considered a sanctuary. Where was her safety now? The landscape began to shimmer as tears filled her eyes.

And then the warmth of Tommy’s grin soothed her. The honesty of the open prairie bathed her in peace. And the hominess of the three of them around the breakfast table made her feel contented.

Amy’s eyes cleared. She was still safe. Nobody knew that Bambi Love or Barbara Crider was here, just some gypsy girl named Amy Lindell.

Amy remembered Ray saying that the pie wasn’t finished baking. She turned back to the kitchen.

Ray glanced cautiously at her. He‘d gotten out potatoes and was trying to peel them. “I slipped the pie back in the oven. Check it again in fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll finish those potatoes for you.”

‘I’m slow and clumsy, but I’ll get them done.”

‘Nonsense, I’ll--”

“Look, Amy, maybe I’ve been too hard on you lately. Suppose you take some time off.”

They stared at each other.

“I know I acted crazy just now, Ray. Sometimes music does that to me.”

His stare said he didn’t quite believe her, but he would accept her explanation.

“All right,” he said, surrendering the potato peeler. “It was bothering the tendons in my arm.”

“You made a good start, though.”

As they made small talk, being especially careful not to alienate each other, Amy began to feel contented and secure again. Perhaps Bambi Love would stop haunting Amy Lindell now.

 

“This pie really tastes good, Amy,” Tommy praised. “In fact, the whole meal was great.”

Amy returned Tommy’s flashing grin with a wan, almost tired and tolerant smile.

“Thanks, Tommy.” She glanced at Ray. “My teacher is making vast improvements with me.”

Ray set down his fork and picked up his coffee cup. “You should’ve tried it at noon, when it was fresh.”

Tommy’s winning smile flashed at Ray. “I sure didn’t know I’d get stuck that long in Morley.” He squeezed Amy’s hand. “I’m sorry again, honey.”

“You’re here now, Tommy. That’s all that counts. Excuse me.” She stood and walked into the living room.

Tommy pointed toward the living room door. “What’s wrong with her? She seems moody tonight.” He grinned. “I know. Maybe it’s that ‘time of the month’ for her.”

Ray clumsily cut another bite of pie off the piece on his plate. “Where did you eat at noon? The Cattleman’s Cafe? I understand they’ve got a new waitress there who’s pretty cute.”

Tommy grinned. “You heard right.”

Ray frowned. “You shouldn’t be messing around with her, boy.”

Tommy gave his uncle a sharp look. “So?”

Ray used his fork to point at the living room door. “So Amy isn’t stupid.”

Tommy tackled his piece of pie again. “Amy has no hold on me.”

“Maybe not, but she is here on your invitation. If you’re through with her, send her on her way. I can’t. She’d think I was some old ogre trying to get in the way of ‘true love,’ or some shit like that. I know she was nothing but an easy pickup for you, but she is a person and deserves a little decent treatment.”

“Whoa! Where’s this lecture coming from?!”

“From your old uncle who thought he’d taught you to respect people, especially women. Spend some more time with Amy. Hell, Tommy, she’s your girlfriend, not mine! But she and I are together more than you two are! Tell you what, there’s a dance tomorrow night down in Livingston. Take her to that.”

“She won’t allow you to stay here by yourself. She takes her nursing job pretty seriously, especially since she was the one who took that thorn out of you and then got you to the doctor’s.”

Ray pushed out of his chair. ‘Then I’ll just have to find another place to be tomorrow night.”

“But your arm--”

“I still have a left one! You young people have trouble understanding that fact. Why, I could still lick any one of you young bucks!”

“I know you could, or you’d die trying.” Tommy set down his own fork. “You wouldn’t try to prove anything tomorrow night, would you?”

“Like what?”

“Like, you’re just as tough as anyone? Uncle Ray, unless you promise to be good, I’ll tell Amy. And you’ll never get her apron strings cut.”

Ray grumbled.

“What?”

“All right, how about if I go out to the reservation and visit some of my friends over there? I can’t get in much trouble doing that, can I?”

“Ray Nolan?! He could get in trouble in church!“ Tommy grinned. “If he wanted to!”

“Look, Tommy, I really am serious about Amy. I think that she’s missing you. She got all torn up today by a sentimental love song on the radio. Women do that. I told her to rest awhile. But when you didn’t show up at noon, she got moody. She didn’t say ten words to me while we ate. And right after we got the dishes done, she disappeared into your bedroom and stayed there all afternoon. She was waiting for you, boy. And when you didn’t get here until supper time, it must’ve made her feel like her worst fears were coming true. She must’ve felt that she was losing you. Tell you what, go take her out on an evening drive right now. Let her know that she’s still special to you.”

“But the dishes--”

“I can do the damned dishes! I was doing dishes when you were still shitting your diaper.”

“But your arm--”

“I’ll get them done if there’s a pile of broken crockery on the floor when I finish!”

“But, if it is her time of the month--”

“Damn it, boy, where is your sense of romance?! There’s more to do with a girl than screwing her! Spend time with her! That’s all she’s wanting right now! Let her know that you care about her. Good Lord, boy, didn’t I raise you any better than that?! If you can’t think of anything else, just treat her like a fellow human being!”

“Amy? I don’t know if I could.” His smile was wistful, the flashing grin forgotten. “I don’t know if anybody could. There’s something about Amy. There’s a part of her that she never will quite surrender. I think it’d be hard to really be in love with her. I think she could never completely love someone back. I understand that much about her, Uncle Ray. She’s a free spirit, and I think no one will ever be able to clip her wings. She‘ll never allow it.”

“If a guy is smart, he wouldn’t try. If a guy is smart, he would want her to stay a little apart, a little free.“ He frowned. “If a guy is smart, he wouldn’t get mixed up with her in the first place.”

“But I did, Uncle Ray. She’s my friend. Don’t worry,” he said with a smile. “Our relationship won’t get any more serious than it already is. I’m not ready for marriage.”

“And love?”

Tommy’s grin broadened. “You’re asking a normal, healthy, young male that question?! Of course, I’m ready for love! I always am!”

“I didn’t mean it that way. I know that young guys are permanently, as you say now, ‘horny.’ Hell, I was young once. I remember the condition.”

Tommy laughed, then put his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Stop worrying so much. I won’t do anything to hurt Amy, or myself.” He straightened. “Guess I’ll go see if Amy wants to take a ride and watch the sun go down.” He shot a look at Ray. “Does that sound okay?”

“That’s more like it! That sounds like the old Nolan charm. It always worked for me. Go on now! Scoot!”

He grinned as he watched Tommy leave the kitchen. Then he turned to the dishes and stared at them thoughtfully. If the Nolan charm was so utterly devastating on women, why was he, Ray Whitman Nolan, still single at forty-one?


	6. Chapter 6

Ray and Amy entered a period of peaceful co-existence. And everything, including the ranch animals, seemed to acknowledge the truce and relax.

“Your cooking is getting better,” Ray said one evening as they crossed the yard and headed for the house.

“Why, thank you. I like to feel useful.”

Ray was feeling generous. ‘You never have to wonder about that, little one. Not after the other day. You came through when you had to help me.” He held the back door open for her. “But I don’t think Doc Gray has to worry that you’ll be taking over his practice soon!”

Amy grinned. “Me, neither!”

They entered the kitchen, laughing.

“You can chop the rest of that roast beef up with some onions and the cooked potatoes, and we’ll have some fried hash and eggs and kraut,” Ray directed. “I can heat up some of these spiced apples to go with it.”

Amy began chopping the meat. “You know, Ray, I really can cook. And it’s good food, too. It’s just different from what you’re used to eating, but people have sustained themselves for years on it.”

He snorted. “City food, most likely.”

She nodded. “Pizza. Lasagna. Clam chowder. Chow mien. Goulash. Let me fix some of it for you sometime.”

“Sounds foreign to me.”

“Almost everything is, except cornbread and turkey. Come on, Ray. Be a sport.”

“Ray Nolan?” he grumbled.

“All-American red neck?” she teased. She could tell that he was softening.

“Oh, all right. I guess it’d only be fair. A lot of what you mentioned I’ve heard of, but what’s that lasagna stuff?”

“It’s an Italian dish. I’ll get the ingredients for it the next time we go after supplies. Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”

“I think I’d like anything you fixed.”

“Ray Nolan, All-American red neck?” she teased.

“No, Ray Nolan, All-American jerk. For being such a hard ass.”

She tilted her head. “I’d try to correct you on that. But you have been acting like a hard ass.”

He frowned. “You didn’t have to agree so fast!” Then he softened and smiled.

She returned his grin.

 

A stretch of rainy weather forced them to stay inside and watch television.

“I didn’t even realize the TV worked,” Amy commented during a dog food commercial during an hour long western. “I thought it was broken. I’ve never seen it on.” Amy was a little excited and never thought she’d feel that way about television, but it had been a long time since she’d watched any shows.

“Generally, it’s a winter activity,” Tommy explained. “We don’t have time to watch in the summer. We put in long hours.”

“I’ve noticed,” Amy said softly, hoping Ray wouldn’t hear how wistful her voice sounded.

“That’s what we do on a ranch, missy. We’re not running a resort.”

For some reason, his old line hurt her greater that evening. Maybe it was because Tommy was there to witness his needling. The show started again and they quieted to watch it.

Then the western finished its story and the credits began to roll.

Tommy sat forward with shiny eyes. “Oh, boy, one of my favorites is on now.”

“What’s that?” Amy asked.

As if to answer her, the opening of HARRINGTON-PRICE started, and Amy felt a thrill of excitement. Then, when Miles Paxton Hughes, co-star of the show, appeared, Amy couldn’t stop her sudden intake of breath. Gosh, he was gorgeous! Gosh, she must’ve been stupid not to have seduced him when she had the chance!

Tommy grinned. “What’s wrong, Amy? Are you a big fan of his?”

“What girl isn’t?”

His grin deepened. “Now, you’ll make me jealous.”

The show started and everyone quieted. Then there was Miles, flashing his famous grin and stealing scene after scene. Amy felt her heart quicken. He was fantastic. 

During the first commercial break, Amy was still dazed by seeing Miles.

“What’s wrong, Amy? Star struck?” Tommy asked.

“No, I, I’m sorry. I’m overwhelmed by the show. It’s well written, isn’t it?”

“Somehow I thought you weren’t interested in the writing.”

“Well, Miles IS handsome to watch. And it looks like he’s winning his battle with weight. He said it was quite a struggle.”

Tommy frowned with disbelief as he laughed. “What?”

She shrugged. “Just something I noticed,” she mumbled.

“Do you know him personally?”

“Miles Paxton Hughes?!” she asked, almost too casually. “Now, how would I know him?”

“You called him by his first name.”

“Fans feel like they get to know actors on a personal basis.”

“But you knew about his weight problem, like a friend would know.”

“I read fan magazines. How would I ever have come close to him?”

“Maybe back in California before you left.”

“What makes you think I’m from California?”

“Aren’t you? I always figured you were.”

Amy noticed that Ray was watching and listening.

“I’ve been there,” she said softly. “I’ve been a lot of places.” Well, it was almost the truth. Several places, at least.

The story started again and the three quieted to watch again. But out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw that Ray watched her with a quizzical look. She knew his mind was calculating the information he’d just learned.

 

The threesome were familiar enough with each other now that they could go for long stretches without conversation. Supper was a quiet affair that night as was the evening, except for Tommy who chattered about the Indians and his plan to visit them to bring them some supplies.

“I’ll go with you, Tommy,” Amy said as the three sat at the kitchen table. They’d listened to the ten o’clock news on the radio and were winding up the day. “It sounds like the situation is dire out on the reservation.”

“I can’t go for a few days.”

She shrugged. “I could always go by myself.”

Tommy grinned. “I forget. You know your way around out there.” He pushed back his chair. “I’ll go check the stock.”

The kitchen quieted after he left.

“It might not be a good idea to go clear out to the reservation by yourself,” Ray said after a long silence. 

“It’s something I want to do alone.”

“I’ll go with you so there won’t be any problems.”

“No, thanks.”

“Look, I don’t want you traipsing out over the prairie by yourself and getting in trouble. Tommy would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

How would you feel, Ray, her unblinking eyes asked. The question hung between them as they stared at each other.

At that moment, the back door banged open. “Whew! It’s still hot out there!” Tommy informed them as he wiped his perspiring brow. “Everything’s secure outside. Anyone want a cold pop?” he asked as he rummaged in the refrigerator.

“No, thanks, Tommy,” Ray answered as his frank eyes held Amy’s. “I was just going to bed.”

It wasn’t exactly an invitation, but it offered enough intimacy to Amy to make her break eye contact with Ray and drop her head. Why did he taunt her and tempt her, only to embarrass her? How could he excite her and frighten her in the same moment? Sometime, she wouldn’t let him get by with it. Sometime soon.

Ray pulled himself out of the chair. “Better not stay up too late, Tommy. You have to get moving early on that herd up in the north range tomorrow.”

Tommy pulled a drink out of the coke can and grinned. “Come on, slave driver! Let a guy have some recreation.”

Ray glanced back at Amy. “I think you’re getting plenty of that.”

Tommy hooted with laughter. “Uncle Ray, you should’ve been a comedian!”

“Too many comics around here,” he muttered and pushed into the living room.

Tommy was still laughing as he piled down in the chair vacated by Ray. “Isn’t he something?”

“I’ll say!”

He missed her sarcasm. His eyes twinkled at her. “How about putting that old book away and doing some recreating of our own?”

After being stimulated by Ray?!

“Oh, Tommy, it’s too hot.”

His eyes danced. “We won’t even notice this little warmth. I guarantee it. We’ll have the windows open for any breath of cool air that comes along. And we can send out all the heat we generate.” He gave her a coy look. “And all of God’s kingdom will know what we’re doing, because I plan to do a lot of yelling and grunting. And all of nature will hear us, and smile.”

Ray will hear us, and grieve.

Perhaps this was the best revenge of all. 

She smiled. “Okay.”

 

Oppressive heat and humidity hung over the prairie and sometimes brought out emotions that Ray and Amy just thought that they had submerged for Tommy’s sake.

The heat wave was continuing, and it seemed that there wasn’t a breath of air to be had anywhere. The night was hot and sticky, as usual, and the light of a full moon cast harsh shadows over the ranch house. Amy padded barefooted across the cool linoleum of the kitchen floor. The thin cotton of Tommy’s old T-shirt floated gently against her warm body, cooling her and making her feel more nude than she actually was.

Amy turned on the tap at the kitchen sink and let the water cool slightly before she drained a glassful and drank. Then she leaned her back against the sink, lit a cigarette, pulled one arm across her stomach, and stared at the place where she knew one dim foot crossed the other.

Tommy had gone out earlier to check some calves. She knew he’d awaken her when he returned. Likely as not, though, she’d still be awake, waiting for him.

Ray had gone out, too. He was on a date with Mary Lou Hankins. If he was lucky, he’d be returning late, too. If he was really lucky, he’d already have eaten his breakfast when he got in. Amy might still be awake, awaiting his return, too.

His arm was much better and he was back to working, much to everyone’s relief.

Amy stared at the ceiling. The cigarette smoke curled near her ear. Perhaps she should be leaving the ranch soon. If Tommy had been the only one living here, she’d probably be long gone. But Ray was here, and he intrigued her. He made her feel uneasy, too, for she felt he could see inside her. And she couldn’t see inside him.

They brought out sparks in each other like static electricity. Neither one particularly liked the attraction. They felt uncomfortable and awkward in each others' company.

If that’s all it was, animal magnetism, she might’ve also been long gone. A quick roll in the hay with Ray and then a fast goodbye with no regrets.

But there was more than that between them. They were companions, albeit grudging companions. There were times when a camaraderie welded them into a shaky friendship and there were times when they enjoyed each others' company. Until they remembered the other thing, the basic animal thing, and pulled apart.

The lights of a pickup swept across the yard. Tommy coming back. Probably ready to buck the springs off the bed again. Well, that was the mood she was in, too.

The screen door screamed open and Amy knew before the overhead kitchen light flashed on that it was Ray entering, not Tommy.

Even though the light was dim, Amy blinked and lowered her head.

Ray paused in the shadow of the door, and Amy knew that he was taking in the view of her skimpy night shirt. Then he headed for the refrigerator.

“Want a cold one?”

She shook her head.

“You’re right. It’s late. I don’t want to wee-wee all the night long.”

At the mention of his bodily functions, and the thought of the path his urine took leaving his body, she turned aside.

“That cigarette’s going to burn your hair, missy.”

Amy jumped and tapped the ash in the sink.

Ray stomped over and took the cigarette from her hand. “No use wasting a good butt.” He puffed on it once and crushed it beneath his boot.

It seemed very intimate for him to smoke the cigarette she’d had in her mouth.

“You shouldn’t be smoking these cancer sticks, anyway.”

That rallied her. “And you should?”

“It don’t matter about me, missy.”

Silence crashed around them as she thought wildly: ‘But it does!’

“The dye was probably cast against me a long time ago,” he mumbled and turned aside. “Besides, I don’t smoke them much.” He glanced at Amy. “Tommy still out?”

The question seemed to highlight the fact that they were alone, together, at an isolated ranch, at night.

“Yes.” It was more a release of breath than an answer. She longed to be anywhere but here in this kitchen with this arrogant man and his critical, disapproving eyes.

“You better get on back to bed now. Morning comes mighty early around here.”

Feeling dismissed, subdued, and yet relieved, she had actually padded nearly to the living room door before he spoke again.

“Heat lightning storm is brewing up. Hope it don’t spook the horses,” Ray said as he looked out the window. “It’ll be here before long, but won’t give us any rain to relieve this heat.” He looked over to where she stood at attention. “It’ll just put a snap in the air.” He frowned. “Tommy will be all charged up, too. I probably won’t get any sleep from all the grunting and squealing going on next door.”

She blushed, then felt herself go cold all over. He wouldn’t get by with it this time. She reached behind herself, grabbed the T-shirt, and gave it a twist. She knew that her erect nipples stood out against the thin cloth and that the hem of the shirt had raised nearly to her crotch.

“And why not, Ray? Tommy’s got a real woman on his hands. And he knows what to do with her. Apparently that knowledge doesn’t run in the family, though. Why else are you back here so early? Is Mary Lou a pale substitute?” She felt the pulse in her throat thudding as she watched his face darken.

“Bitch,” he muttered.

And he was right. Only a bitch would act the way she was acting.

“You she-devil from Hell!” He took two steps toward her and his eyes raked her body again.

Suddenly she was afraid. Not of him physically, but of the intense emotions she was stirring in both of them. She lowered her eyes and released the T-shirt to crumple around her. She didn’t want to bait him anymore.

In two more strides, he grabbed the wad of T-shirt and twisted it back into its former lines of exposure. Amy didn’t raise her eyes to challenge or mock him. She felt the shirt tighten and slide upward.

Ray stared down at her humiliation and could do nothing more. If she’d dared him openly, he’d treated her like the slut he’d thought she was. But this feeling between them went deeper than that, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to explore it.

“Yeah,” he mumbled and released her shirt, but she knew he wasn’t answering her question about Mary Lou.

He continued to stand a few inches from her and stare down at her lowered head. It was as if he didn’t have the energy to break the force field that flowed between them.

At last she opened her mouth and gasped air to relieve the pressure of the electricity snapping between them. She stared at his chest. How simple it would be to lean against him and let matters take their natural course. Tommy would never know. But they would. And there was something different, something more, that seemed to be promised to them. And taking the easy way, the cheap way, now, would ruin their relationship.

But how it tore at their virtue and resolve!

She trembled, hoping she hadn’t dared him to go too far.

“What the hell are you, missy?” he muttered. “Just what the hell are you, anyway?” He jostled her shoulder as he shoved past her into the living room.

Amy lifted her head halfway and stared unseeing across the room. Her skin felt hot, but there was an inner core of ice in her stomach. He hated her, and she didn’t blame him. 

Not who was she, but what?

What, indeed! A good question. It was something she didn’t want to face. And that question struck at her core more frighteningly than any sexual attraction between them did. And that’s what scared her about him. He wanted the truth about her, and how could she explain something she didn’t know herself?

Amy slipped through the living room and barely glanced at Ray who sat in a rocking chair and studied a livestock magazine. A tinny country song whined on the old radio.

She slipped back into bed and stared at the wall. Sleep would be practically impossible now.

Who was she, indeed? If she asked that, she’d have to know who she’d been. And she didn’t particularly want to question that, either. But what scared her into a cold sweat was the next logical question: What are you going to do with the rest of your life? She knew she should be ambitious; she knew she should have a plan. But she had neither. That thought often frightened her. But on the other hand, what was wrong with drifting through life and just enjoying it?

 

It wasn’t just Ray and Amy who could do cruel things. Tommy wasn’t as true to Amy as he should have been, and Ray realized it.

Ray stopped Tommy by the kitchen back door late that afternoon. “Where are you going, boy?”

“Headed into town for the evening. I might hook up with some of the guys.” He winked. “I might not.”

“Storm’s coming in.”

A grin of joy spread over Tommy’s face. “I’ll be where it’s dry.”

“Damn it, boy, it ain’t right you going off and leaving Amy like this.”

Tommy frowned. “We’re not married. And even if we were, I’d do what I wanted. She wouldn’t mind.”

“That’s not it! She’s your girl, not mine. But you’re going off and leaving us alone out here.”

Tommy smirked. “I’m sure Amy wouldn’t compromise your morals if you refuse her advances.”

“Damn it, boy, it just doesn’t look right.”

Tommy frowned. “Since when do you care what people think?”

“I’m thinking of her reputation. Mine was shot to hell a long time ago. Besides, it‘s different for a woman.”

“I think you’re getting old.”

“And I think you’re not old enough.”

“I have to get out of here.”

“You’re doing two things wrong here, Tommy. You’re not taking Amy with you, and you’re leaving us alone.”

“Good God, Ray, you don’t need a chaperone. If you’re that afraid of your chastity, I’ll tell Amy not to seduce you while I’m gone.”

Ray grabbed his arm and stopped him from walking into the living room where Amy sat reading. “You’ll do no such thing!” Ray’s eyes were snapping. “I don’t want two of you disrespectful pups laughing at me!”

Tommy frowned. “Ray, what’s wrong? You’re way too serious here. It’s not that important.”

Ray shoved Tommy aside. “Get the hell out of here.”

“Lighten up, Ray.”

“Go on.”

“Ray--”

“If you don’t care for that girl anymore than that, just go on and have your fun.”

Tommy left, shaking his head.

 

Ray was still indignant and decided to confront Amy. She was still reading a book in the living room.

“Tommy’s going into town,” he announced.

“I know,” she mumbled without looking up.

“He said he was going to get together with some of his friends.”

She gave him a quick glance and returned to her book. “That’s what he said.”

“Or he might go somewhere alone.”

She didn’t comment.

“With a woman.”

She finally looked up. “So?”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

She shrugged. “No.”

He exploded. “What kind of crazy morals do you people have, anyway?!”

“It’s our problem, Ray.”

“That’s about what Tommy said, too. Okay, why should I mind if nobody else does? Go back to your reading. It’s the only thing that seems to mean anything to you.”  
He stopped by the door. “Oh, it looks like a storm’s blowing up. There might be some heat lightning. It might wake you up. But don’t worry. It won’t hurt you. All it might spook are the horses.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled and went back to her book.

He stared at her from the doorway, finally shook his head, and left.

 

Much later, Amy lay in the moon bathed bedroom with nothing but a sheet to cover her. She thought Ray had said that a storm was headed their way. But she could see moonlight. Oh, well, he was a native around here and knew how summer storms acted. With her luck, Amy figured she just get asleep when the storm would hit and so get awakened by it.

Sleep was elusive. She supposed she was actually waiting for the storm. But soon she must’ve drifted off because the flushing of the toilet snapped her awake. Ray must’ve been using it. Then she heard his bedroom door open and close, then the bed springs protested as he sat down. Then the rhythm of the springs reached her as he fought his boots. Then thud! thud! as the cowboy boots hit the floor.

Amy rolled on her side and moaned. God, he really could hear the sounds of their lovemaking! How many times had he lain so near and listened, straining not to miss anything and torturing himself with every sound and vision?

She thought about his trip to the bathroom and the route his urine took to leave his body. Stupid thinking! A man taking a piss. A man handling his cock.

Amy flopped on her stomach to ease her thoughts of his activities, but that position only made matters worse. She fantasized that she was pressing herself down on top of him. She spread her legs to receive him.

Amy rolled on her back. Help me, Lord, to forget him. But how can You tempt me like this when I can hear him turning in his own bed?

Amy froze. If she could hear Ray, then Ray could hear her and knew that she wasn’t asleep, either. He could picture her body in bed, as much as she could picture his. And neither one needed any further stimulation in an already emotionally charged situation. She would just have to lie here until sleep or Tommy came to her. The third possibility, a visit from Ray, just couldn’t be allowed to happen. Sleep, where in the hell were you?!


	7. Chapter 7

The promised storm arrived shortly after Amy finally got to sleep. She felt like she’d barely closed her eyes when she was awakened by thunder and lightening. Neither one frightened her, and she tried to go back to sleep. She was starting to feel a little punch drunk from all of this going to sleep and being awakened. If this kept up, she was going to be exhausted by morning.

Amy apparently drifted off again because the strange sounds came from far away and she couldn’t focus on them. But there was danger and panic somewhere. Then she came fully awake as she heard the stallion screaming again.

The bedroom shimmered with lightning, then thunder rolled out of the hills and across the prairie. A quick glance at the clock showed that two hours had passed, and Tommy still wasn’t home. Maybe it really was going to storm. If a rain was coming, she’d better close the window.

She shoved the window home with a definite slam just as a brilliant flash of lightning lit up the corral. The horses were milling about, and Ray was in their midst, seemingly fighting with them. He seemed to be trying to herd them, without much success. Then the stallion reared in front of Ray, and Ray disappeared.

Had he fallen? Had the stallion killed him? Amy strained her eyes, but no obliging stroke of lightning lit up the corral for her to see if Ray was okay.

She was the only other person on the place. It was up to her to see Ray was hurt.

Amy’s hands trembled as she pulled on her jeans and Tommy’s long-sleeved denim shirt. She realized she’d forgotten her boots when she found herself running through ooze in the yard. But there was no time to go back for them.

Large drops of rain fell sporadically; they were probably the scouts before a cloud burst. Amy swatted rain off her face. She knew her hair was already plastered against her head. But as wild and threatening as the wind-tossed rain was, she knew it was the close lightning that frightened the horses.

Amy plunged to the fence and was relieved to see Ray struggling among the milling horses. A muddy streak along his right flank showed that he had indeed fallen.

“Are you all right?!” Amy yelled above the storm.

He whirled around, not realizing at first who’d spoken. When he saw her, he frowned. “What the hell are you doing out here?! Get back to the house before all hell breaks loose!”

“I thought you said there would just be heat lightning!”

“So I’m no weatherman! So sue me!” He waved his arms at the horses and whistled between his teeth. “Haw! Get in there, you crazy son of a bitch!”

“What are you trying to do?!” she demanded from the top of the fence.

“Chase the horses into the barn so the storm won’t scare them anymore than it already has. Haw! But the silly bastards won’t listen to reason!”

She jumped into the corral muck behind him. “What can I do?”

He whirled. “What the hell are you doing in here?! Get on the other side of the fence before you get hurt!”

“You need help, and right now you’ve got mighty slim pickings! You’re stuck with me, cowboy! Just tell me what to do.”

“Okay, but be careful. Just aim them for the barn.”

They haphazardly herded the frightened horses and made progress until one broke loose. Amy gave chase and felt sharp things in the muck tear at her feet. At last the remaining straggler ran into the barn. Ray slammed the door shut and leaned heavily against it.

Ray glared through the slanting rain. “Christ Almighty, girl! Don’t you know you could get killed in the middle of a horse herd?! Why are you out here where you don’t belong, anyway?!”

“I thought I saw you go down! I wanted to help, that’s all! It won’t happen again!”

“You bet it won’t, missy, because you’re leaving!”

“You’d send me away?! For helping?!”

“I meant the house, but now that you mention it, getting off the ranch is a better idea. You’re not wanted here. Now--”

A horse’s hoof splintered the wood between them, and Amy screamed. Ray cursed the day the horse foaled and then the horse’s mother, just for good measure. Another hoof pounded the side of the barn, and Ray shoved Amy.

“Get to the goddamn house! Now!!”

Before Amy could move, another hoof crashed through the wood beside her head.

“Holy shit!” Ray released the door, grabbed her arm, and pushed her into the corner formed where the corral met the barn.

“Are you hurt?!” His hands roughly ruffled her hair in the dark, checking for the  
wet stickiness of blood, she supposed.

Horses rushed by them.

“The horses--”

“Fuck the horses!”

“But--” She struggled against him.

“Stand still, damn it! I’m trying to find out if you’re okay. Are you hurt?!”

She stopped and wished he could see her glaring at him. “No, but I will be if you don’t stop wallowing me. Now--” She tried to break his hold again.

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. “Do you want to get killed?! Stop fighting me! We’re in a hell of a situation here! This storm has made these horses wild, and we could both wind up dead!”

The fear in his voice finally calmed her. She obeyed and tried to make her body as small as possible.

The horses bucked furiously around the pen. Ray shielded her with his body and cradled her head with his arm. Amy could feel him trembling and knew he was more afraid for her than for himself.

“Oh, Ray, I’m sorry!”

“Shut up! Sorry ain’t going to help us now!”

At the first opportunity, Ray forced her over the fence. They landed in a tangled sprawl and scrambled to their feet. Ray jerked her around to face him.

“Now get to the house!”

“But the horses--”

“The storm’s easing. They’ll quiet down now.”

And indeed they were. It seemed a miracle. Some horses still tossed their heads and pawed the ground, but even they were quieting.

“Go on now,” he said more gently. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll watch them for awhile. I’ll be up in a little bit.”

She tried to comply and limped a painful step.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hurt my feet.”

“But, how? Your boots would’ve protected you.”

“Uh, I’m barefooted.”

“You’re barefooted?! You came out here barefooted?! Are you crazier than blue blazing hell?!”

“I saw you go down! I came to help you. I didn’t have time for boots. Ouch!” she complained as she tried to take another step.

“Crazy woman--” He scooped her up in his arms.

“Put me down! You’ll hurt your arm!”

“My arm’s okay. It’ll take you a month of Sundays to limp across this yard, so stop squirming around!” he ordered as he sloughed toward the house. “You’re heavier to move than six months of horse manure in a three-wheeled wagon!” He shoved aside the kitchen door and tromped across the linoleum. “You weren’t this heavy at Uncle Billy‘s funeral. Those wet clothes have added weight to you.”

“Then take them off me!”

His eyes snapped with anger. “I plan to do just that, missy!” He dumped her on her bed and stomped to the bathroom.

Amy bounced and grabbed the bed to keep from flying off it. She surveyed her damage while she heard water running in the bathroom. Her clothing was wet and muddy and stunk of horses, especially the jeans.

Ray tossed her a towel as he carried in a pan of steaming water. “Dry off! I really should stick you under the shower, but I want to see what damage you’ve done to yourself. Unzip those jeans!”

She hastily complied as he impatiently began to claw at them and strip them from her legs. He tossed the sodden mess on the floor. She crumpled the towel in her lap for modesty’s sake, but Ray wasn’t paying her upper body any attention. He knelt, took her feet in his hands, and turned them gently as he inspected the drying muck and streaked blood.

“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled, then glanced up at her. “Nothing major, but you broke the skin in several places. How long since you’ve had a tetanus shot?”

“Tetanus shot? What’s that for?”

“Son of a bitchin’ city people! Why don’t you stay in the city if you don’t know country ways?!” He roughly grabbed her right leg and began to scour hot, soapy water onto it.

Amy winced as the soap bit into a dozen raw places. He was worried, and his worry infected her. “What could happen if I don’t get this tetanus shot?” She saw him purse his lips, and her worry turned into panic. “Please, Ray, tell me! I’ve got to know!”

His eyes blazed at her. “Lockjaw! Your jaws lock tighter than an old maid’s pussy, and you die! Lockjaw, missy! It’s fatal!”

Amy stiffened. “I better go get that shot right now!”

Her alarm seemed to calm him. “Tomorrow’s soon enough. I’ll take you in after first light if you want, but Doc won’t be in his office yet for hours,” he said as he washed her left leg. “Likely as not, there won’t be a problem. There’s always danger of tetanus around a ranch, but you’ll have plenty of time to get to the doctor.”

She batted her eyes as antiseptic bit into her leg. “Plenty of time?! Then why did you scare me like that?!”

“Because there is danger.” He finished fluffing her leg dry and stood. “And because you scared the hell out of me, too, missy.” He swung her legs onto the bed while she huffed at him in exasperation. “Now don’t get all indignant on me. You know you deserved that lesson.” He softened. “But I guess I shouldn’t be so hard on you. I know you were only trying to help.”

“Well,” she mumbled, appeased, as she messed with the sheet.

He shook his head and drew a deep breath. “However misguided, you were only trying to help.”

She looked up, subdued, then quickly turned her head away.

He sat down beside her, facing her, and glanced at her spiky hair that she’d partially dried. “I’ve seen you look better.”

Amy crossed her arms. “You sure know what to tell a girl to make her feel sexy, don’t you?!”

“Then try this: Take off those shirts.”

Amy blinked. “I will not!” Without the denim shirt and the T-shirt, she’d be naked and they both knew it.

“Damn it! Those clothes are wet! If the tetanus don’t get you, the pneumonia sure as hell will. Either way, I’ll have a dead girl on my hands.”

“Well, pardon me for being such a burden to you!”

Suddenly he looked tired and old. “You’re not a burden, Amy. I just don’t want a dead girl on my hands. You’re too young for the world to lose. Help me on this one, girl. Too many women have died out here. Don’t let this land claim another victim. Now,” he said softly, “let’s get these shirts off.”

Obediently, she allowed him to struggle her out of the long-sleeved denim shirt. Then, only the wet T-shirt clung and remained. It didn’t do much to hide her attributes and probably left little to Ray’s imagination.

“Ah,” he said, clearing his throat. “This has to come over your head,” he said, reaching for the shirt.

She could’ve sworn he blushed.

Keeping his eyes intently staring into hers, as if to make a point of his gentlemanly intentions, he pulled the wet shirt upwards. When the shirt momentarily interrupted her view of his stare, she never knew if he glanced down to her chest or not. But she did know that he was staring at her eyes when her head cleared the T-shirt. Without breaking the stare, he reached backwards. “Let’s get this gown on you. The rain’s cooled the night some, and the gown will feel good.” He pulled it over her head, and she rearranged the gown over her body. Only then did he relax and allow his eyes to wander.

“This bedding is going to be a mess to wash,” she mumbled as she picked at a dirty spot on the sheet.

“Never mind. I’ll toss it in the washer in the morning. The washer’s seen worse.”

“Regular little housekeeper, aren’t you?” she asked softly. “Have you ever considered hiring yourself out for light housework?”

But he didn’t rise to the bait. “Ah, look, missy, I didn’t mean to holler at you out there. I appreciated your help, even if I didn’t act like it. I really couldn’t have done it by myself. But I was scared you’d get hurt, and then when you did--”

He was quiet for a long moment, and she wisely held her tongue.

“Scared people do strange things, Amy, like acting mad at you when they really aren’t. That was very brave, what you did, getting out in the middle of something you really didn’t understand, just to help someone who’s never been very nice to you. But that’s changing. There’s more to you than the alley cat that followed Tommy home. After what you did out there tonight, I’m glad you’re here. I owe you a great deal, and not just for tonight. You’re a special person, and it’s time I was telling you how special I think you are.” He reached out and touched her face. “I’ve seen you look better, but never more beautiful.” He gently stroked his rough finger across her silken cheek.

She watched him, fascinated.

Ray leaned forward and cupped her face in his work-worn hands. “I can’t have you hurting, little one. You’re much too precious.” He gently pulled her into his arms, hugged her, and gave in to his emotions. “You scared the hell out of me!” he snarled in her ear. “I know why you were out there, but I could blister your butt for you!” 

Amy was surprised and overwhelmed by his emotion. Nobody had ever before been this frightened for her welfare. She didn’t quite know how to reassure him since he was obviously upset about what might have happened to her. The only thing she could think to do was to hug him back. It was very comforting to her. Maybe it would be for him, too. She trembled as she pulled her arms around him.

“God, girl, I’m happy you’re safe!” he whispered hotly.

“I was so scared you were hurt!” she whispered back. “You went down, and I couldn’t see you! I had to save you!” 

She reached her shaking hand up and stroked his head. Ray spread his fingers and rubbed her back. Then they were all over each other, grasping and squeezing. They clung together as their hands reassured them that the other one was really and truly all right.

Ray pulled back and frowned as he stared into her face. Her eyes were large with tragedy and her lips were slightly parted.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he murmured. “I just couldn’t take it if something happened to you.” He pulled her back into his arms. “Amy,” he said softly and kissed her cheek. Then his lips traveled to her mouth. It was a warm and personal expression of his gratitude and thanksgiving. Then he cradled her and gently rocked her. “I could kill you myself for what you did!”

His words didn’t anger or frighten her, but curiously made her feel protected. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t nicer to you, Amy.”

“I know. I know. I understand,” she whispered. “You had your reasons.”

Her words soothed him, but also broke the spell. He pushed distance between them and looked down at the tears sparkling her eyelashes.

“Okay?”

She nodded.

“Okay, then, down under the covers with you.” He helped her to scoot down and drew the sheet up over her shoulders. “Holler if you need me, okay?”

She nodded. She wasn’t going to break the spell again.

He stood looking down at her, then touched her cheek with his bent index finger. This time he didn’t say anything to break the spell, either. He gently brushed his rough fingertips across her cheek.

Amy closed her eyes and he turned out the light and left the room. She opened her eyes and stared long moments at the window. He’d kissed her. He’d kissed her, and she’d felt nothing but a sisterly warmth for him. Odd. But nice. She smiled softly. Nice. Then she closed her eyes and slept.

 

Amy awoke with a start. Sunshine streamed in the window. She moaned and moved away from the glare. Far away, she could hear the washing machine. She opened her eyes and saw that her dirty clothes were gone. She almost expected the sheets to be changed, too, while she’d slept, but even Ray couldn’t be that objective.

Amy padded down the hallway to the bathroom. When she returned to the bedroom, Ray had stripped the bed and was snapping a clean sheet on it.

“Can you walk all right? Then make yourself useful as well as beautiful and help make this bed.”

They labored for a few moments, and Ray motioned for her to get back in bed. She sat up as he twisted her feet this way and that.

“You’ll live,” he mumbled, gathered up the sheets, and was gone.

Amy sat on the bed with her feet drawn up. ‘He kissed me last night and this morning he acts like I’m a stranger,’ she thought.

The door flew open and she flipped the clean sheet over her legs. He glared at her, and suddenly he seemed less friendly.

Ray plopped a tray on her lap. Oatmeal. Peaches. Milk. A boiled egg. Two slices of buttered toast.

“Eat it all,” he ordered.

“But I can’t eat this much food!”

“This morning, you do. You’re starting to look puny.”

Warmth flooded through her. He was mothering her, and she no longer felt like a stranger to him.

She tasted the oatmeal. “Good.”

“It should be. It’s a specialty of mine.”

“Thanks, Ray, for breakfast. And for taking care of me. I appreciate it.”

Her thanks seemed to fluster him. “It was the least I could do for Tommy’s girl.”

At the mention of Tommy, he became a very real presence in the room. Amy had nearly forgotten him.

“Where is Tommy? Have you heard from him?”

“He called awhile ago. He got hung up with some horses over at Red Butte. Said he was sorry he had us worried.”

In the silence of the room, Amy realized that they hadn’t even thought about Tommy, let alone worried about him. Guilt settled over them and made them uneasy.

“Well, I’ll come back for the dishes later,” Ray said. “You shower and get dressed, and I’ll take you into town to see Doc. Likely as not, though, if you ain’t dead by now, you’ll make it.” He jammed his hands in his hip pockets and scuffed the toe of his boot on the throw rug. “By the time we get back, Tommy should be home. With any luck, nobody will ever know he wasn’t here all night.”

The end of his speech struck her as an odd thing to say, and it put her in a frivolous mood. She arched an eyebrow at him. “My, your solicitude for my condition and your subtlety concerning the whole situation really overwhelm me.”

“Damn it, girl, this ain’t funny! I put you in a compromising position! We were alone together last night! Have you no concern for your welfare?!”

Amy shrugged. She hadn’t been afraid of him, just for him. “Well, no.”

“Then what about your reputation?!”

Amy blinked. She’d forgotten that his generation was worried about propriety.

“I appreciate your concern, Ray. But there’s really no reason to worry.”

“Damn it, girl! I kissed you! I could’ve done worse.”

She blinked again. “I trusted you.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t. You’re a mighty pretty girl, and I’m only a weak man.” He scratched at the crisp hair at the back of his neck. “Besides that, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about last night.”

She stiffened, then relaxed. Okay, she’d play by his rules. “Don’t worry. I didn’t misunderstand what your kiss meant. You said that scared people do strange things. Well, so do relieved ones. You were only showing me that you were happy I was okay. That’s all. You forgot yourself and gave in to the emotion of the moment. I understood.”

Ray breathed deeply. “Just so we understand each other.”

“What else could there have been?” Amy asked innocently and hoped she was enough of an actress to pull it off. “I felt protected and safe. Thank you.”

“It’s been a long time since a woman’s felt that safe around me,” he grumbled. “I don’t know if that’s much of a compliment, missy.”

She smiled warmly at him. “Now, I’ve gone and crushed your male ego, haven’t I, when all I was trying to convey was my gratitude. Oh, Ray, let’s just be friends. I think we can be great ones.”

He sighed, then his eyes narrowed. “I’m thinking it’d take an awfully strong person to be your friend, missy. Someone would need an armadillo hide and a cactus patch protecting the heart. Then he just might have a chance being friendly with you and not get hurt.” He breathed deeply. “But what the hell! My heart’s been callused for years.”

She knew now that she had played it right, but not very honestly. Perhaps being friends was the only choice they had. Perhaps they would never be able to admit the passion that smoldered in their hearts for each other. Then, too, perhaps she was just wrong about his true feelings. Perhaps their ‘romance’ existed only in her mind.

“You’ve got a good heart, Ray, and don’t try to tell me any differently.”

Ray gave her a soft smile.

At that moment, Tommy peeked around the corner. “Why is everybody in here? Amy? Are you hurt?” He sat on the bed beside her. “Are you all right? Ray? What happened?”

“Amy can fill you in,” Ray answered as he stamped out of the room. “Me, I’ve got work to do. Tommy, there’s oatmeal and boiled eggs on the kitchen table if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks!” He turned back to Amy who had flipped the sheet away from her legs. Tommy saw her torn feet. “Amy? What’s wrong with your feet?”

“Well, it all goes back to the storm last night--”

 

In the end, Tommy drove Amy into town. Her feet weren’t badly hurt, so the doctor said. He gave her a tetanus shot and told her to rest.

Back at the ranch, Ray tried to stay out of Amy’s way. When they were thrown together, he was thoughtful and didn’t try to rile her. If the night of the lightning storm had any purpose, it was to bring them together as cautious friends and to defuse the emotional electricity between them. Amy found that life on the ranch could be a lot more pleasant if Ray was amiable. Maybe this arrangement could work after all.

 

Ray stepped outside and settled into the old wooden chair standing by the side of the back door. After a few minutes, Amy wandered outside, cut Ray’s view off of the south pasture, sighed, and slid down the porch post to lean against it and sit on the top step. Sunlight glinted on her hair and lit up the contours of her face. Ray tried not to watch her, but she was in his direct line of vision.

“It’s peaceful out here this afternoon,” she said.

“I feel like a sneak, sitting on the porch on a perfectly good day.”

She gave him a lazy smile back over her shoulder. Her hair rippled backwards, exposing her ear. “Enjoy yourself. Your arm won’t always be sore. You got just a little setback the night you carried me to the house during the storm. But you’ll heal. And then Tommy will work your tail off.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I could get to liking this way of living.”

“I have. I love it out here. You have a slice of heaven and don’t know it.”

“You’re, ah, liking it here pretty well then?” he asked, almost too casually.

“What’s not to like?”

“This isn’t a resort,” he mumbled.

She turned half-way toward him. “I know that. I thought I’d been pulling my own weight.” She frowned. “Do you really want me out of here that badly?”

Ray breathed deeply and looked over her head at the prairie. “I guess not.”

“Is it me you object to so much, or just the situation?”

Ray breathed deeply again, but did not answer.

She squinted at him. “There doesn’t have to be open warfare between us, you know. Can’t you just go along with this thing until it runs its natural course, and I leave?”

He frowned and looked down at her face. “I guess Tommy understands you pretty well, after all. He says that it’s all very casual between you two. But I know that things can happen. People fall in love.”

Amy grinned. “Why, you old romantic! I didn’t know you had it in you. I wouldn’t have guessed that you believed in love.”

“The point isn’t what I believe in, missy,” he said softly. “Do you? Do you believe in love?” He tried to sound casual, but anyone could tell how important this question was to him.

She stared at him for a long moment, then looked out across the prairie. “Love is a fearsome, wondrous thing, Ray. It replenishes the earth and gives us hope for the future. But it can stab the heart and shrivel the soul. I can believe in it, but I don’t know if I can trust it.”

“What cynicism in one so young! You might be dangerous to be around. Your ideas could rub off.” He frowned down at her. “Don’t destroy Tommy’s joy of life.”

She looked back at Ray.

“Don’t freeze his heart the way yours has apparently been frozen, Amy.”

Amy pinched her eyes shut.

“Don’t let him fall in love with you, girl.”

She opened her eyes. “Do you ever think about anybody except Tommy?”

“Right now, he’s the only family I’ve got, close in. I’ll protect him with my dying breath.”

“So would I, Ray. I’m not in love with him, but I do like him. Trust me. I‘ll be good to him.”

Ray’s ugly smile flickered. “I’m supposed to trust you, but you won’t trust other people. You know, in most other ways, you seem to be a pretty decent sort of person. But somebody must’ve really hurt you in the past to make you so cautious now.”

She looked back out across the prairie.

“All right, missy. I won’t pry anymore. But I won’t apologize for talking about it, either. Right now, it is my business. You’re living under my roof, and anything about you concerns me and mine. And you’re wrong. I do consider other people. I’ll protect you as long as you’re with us.”

She glanced back at him, and he was startled to see tears standing in her eyes.

“Thanks, Ray. I really appreciate that. It’s nice to know that I could rely on someone else for a change.”

Ray was momentarily flustered by her gratefulness. He felt a sudden rush of feeling for her that was akin to friendship, and a warm sense of protectiveness coursed through him that he suspected could turn fierce if required.

“What are you aiming to do with Tommy?” he asked.

“Love him a little.”

“And then move on?”

“Of course.”

“He’s just a kid. Move on now.”

“You never minded us being together before. In fact, you’ve pushed us together lately, and now--”

“He’s falling for you now. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“You’re seeing something that just isn’t there, Ray. I’ll move on, when I’m ready.”

“And break his heart then, too.”

She squinted at the prairie without seeing it. “You’re saying that if I stay, I’ll break his heart; and if I leave, I’ll break his heart. I’m confused. I don’t know what you want from me, Ray.”

“I don’t know, either, girl.” He breathed deeply. “Lord, I don’t know, either. I just know I don’t like the situation very much, and not for why you think.” He fingered a frayed edge on his shirt sleeve and frowned. “I think about him kissing you and touching you, and I wish I didn’t know it was going on. I think about him going to sleep in your arms and waking up to your smile, and I curse the night and day.” He looked up and his breath sounded jagged. “I feel like shooting the two of you. Or myself.”

Stunned, Amy leaned against the post and stared ahead, unseeing. And she thought, ‘This man wants me, and he as much as admitted it. But he’s not particularly pleased with himself for feeling this way. The night of the storm, he exposed too much of his heart. Now he thinks he’s vulnerable and I’ll take advantage because of the war we’ve always been in. He thinks it’s a sign of weakness.’ She wondered if he was aware of why he was feeling the way he did.

“Think it’s about time I start the potatoes for supper,” she said and pushed herself to her feet. She ‘accidentally’ stumbled on the steps and grabbed Ray’s good arm to steady herself. The jolt of electricity that passed between them shocked them both.

Ray also had grabbed her arm to prevent a fall. As they stared into each others' eyes with their raw emotions exposed, he realized she’d only wanted to see his reaction to her touch. 

His eyes flashed, his lips snarled, and he pushed her away. “Bitch!” he muttered.

Amy was barely aware of walking into the house. Her touch had shaken Ray, and she had proven it. The awareness that had crackled between them from the first meeting was still there.

Ray sat fuming on the porch. The bitch had deliberately staged her ‘fall.’ Okay, now they both knew of their mutual attraction. The hussy! Did she have to have all of the men crazy about her?! Did she have to prove that he was vulnerable, too?!

It was about the way that he should’ve expected her to act. Perhaps, if he goaded her enough, she would misbehave so blatantly that even the love-struck Tommy could see what she really was like. And, maybe in the process, Ray might even get a free piece for himself.

He cursed and threw his good arm out in disgust. He was mad as hell about what she’d done. That he understood. But why was he so mad at himself?


	8. Chapter 8

Amy and Ray were sitting on the front porch of the ranch house that sunny Sunday afternoon. A companionable silence hung between them. The heat was intense and made talking an effort so it was relaxing just to be quiet together. Somewhere close, honeybees hummed as they journeyed on their way to tap the red clover in the nearby pasture. 

“I can’t imagine how a child would cope with living out here,” Amy said softly, so she wouldn’t disturb the day too much. “Adults have their work to keep them busy, but children-- Wouldn‘t they get bored?”

“Children have their chores. We did.”

“But, there were other hours in the day. I doubt if you were allowed to watch much television.”

“Nope. I was almost grown before we got our first TV, and it was played mainly in the evenings. And then it was programs that our parents picked. Children didn‘t run the television, or the family, the way they do now.” 

“Didn’t you ever demand to see something different? Or do something different?”

He shrugged. “I guess we never questioned that setup. That’s the way the family had always been. You don’t miss what you’ve never had.”

“Were you ever bored when you were growing up?” 

Ray shook his head. “I guess we were used to the solitude.”

“But, what did you do for recreation?”

“Oh, there were lots of things to do.” Ray thought for a moment, and then jumped to his feet. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk. I want you to see something.”

She fell into step beside him as he aimed in a general direction toward a grove of willow trees that grew along the creek bank. Amy didn’t speak because she knew he was reliving a memory of childhood. What gratified her the most now was that he had wanted her companionship on his walk. He hadn’t bolted away, but had asked her to go with him. And she would have followed him, no matter where he would have led her, even somewhere as humdrum looking as a grove of willows in their full summertime foliage.

“It looks cool under those trees,” she prompted.

He had a far-away look of remembrance on his face. “Those trees were my sanctuary when I was a kid. My brother Luke and I played cowboys and Indians there by the hour.”

“Luke? Tommy’s father?”

“That’s right. I could hardly forgive him for getting married so young. I felt like he’d deserted me. Then, when I first saw Tommy, it made it all worthwhile, like getting Luke back again.” He frowned. “Then Luke and Trudy got taken away for good, and I missed my big brother something fierce. But I had Tommy, so I had someone to live for. In time, I brought him out here to this grove and introduced him to its wonders. He played here, but it never seemed to mean to him what it had meant to me.”

“Maybe that’s because you had discovered it, and he was merely shown it.”

Ray glanced down at her. “Maybe I should go back to the house and let you explore on your own.”

“No, I want to see it through your eyes. I want to see what those two little boys found, you and Luke.”

They plunged into the ferny green coolness of the willows. Ray stopped, planted his hands on his hips, and looked around. Bright sunshine formed one boundary, and the gurgle of invisible water marked the other line. About twenty feet of brush and willows lay in between and comprised the kingdom.

“Sure as hell doesn’t look like much now. It used to be the world to us, back then.“ He frowned. “Hell, it used to be a whole lot bigger, too.”

Amy slowly turned with shining eyes. “It’s a fairyland!”

Ray smirked. “Well, to boys, it was hostile Indian territory.” He pointed. “Right behind that big boulder was Fort Laramie. Luke and I beat back many an Indian raid right there.”

Amy scurried behind the rock. “Right here?” She looked around. “Oh, this would’ve been perfect!”

“Other times, it was a castle, and we were knights in shining armor. There was always a fierce dragon to fight and slay.”

With a far-away look, she walked back toward him. “Was there a fairy princess trapped in the tower who needed to be rescued?”

“Of course. That’s who the dragon was holding prisoner. Of course, we forgot all about the princess as soon as the dragon was slain.”

“She’d lost her usefulness. What about the cowboys? Did they have cowgirl sweethearts?” 

Ray put his thumbs in his belt hoops and drew himself up. “Real cowboys never messed with women! To cowboys, there were only two kinds of women: pure and saintly school marms and wicked saloon girls. Both were untouchables.”

“What about women on the wagon trains?”

“They belonged to married, non-straying husbands. They were all rather sexless couples.”

“How did you explain all of their children?”

“They were just something that happened naturally, like sunshine and rain, and the sexless couples merely got to raise them. Apparently we thought a couple just found children out in the woods. About the same way they‘d find mushrooms or walnuts, I suppose.”

She laughed. “Don’t you just love kids?!”

“Sure. Other people’s.”

Amy walked toward the creek. “Did you fish here?”

“Sure. For rainbow trout.”

“Catch any?”

“Sometimes. But fishing was better up in the mountains. Still is.”

She looked southwest as if her dreamy eyes could see through the rolling hills to the Rockies that lay beyond. “Everything’s better in the mountains. It’s a wonderful place to live.”

He shrugged. “It all depends on what you get used to, I guess.”

“I’ve never lived in the mountains, just been in them a little. We went on summer vacations in the Adirondacks, and I loved them. Of course, the mountains back East aren’t as rugged as these. These are so majestic and beautiful.”

“Give you a week in a howling blizzard, and you might change your mind.”

“I guess I’m a romantic at heart.”

He frowned. “You can be sentimental, yet you can’t trust other people’s love?”

“The trouble lies not with other people, Ray, but with me. There’s times I think that I can’t love. As a child, I was an ugly duckling. Combine that with being the only child of older parents who always acted slightly embarrassed with my presence and who were never demonstrative with their affections, and you produce a person who doesn’t feel very lovable. Toss in a few teenage relationships that were either abortive or non-existent, and you have a woman who never really lets anyone get really close to her. She might seem friendly and approachable, but only in what she considers ‘safe’ relationships. If she ever lets her guard down and thinks she’s falling for someone, she’ll probably get cold feet and disappear.”

His frown deepened. “If she ever? She’ll probably? Such chilling expressions. Do you mean she’s never, ah, fallen?”

Amy stared down into the rushing trickle of water below her feet. “There have been times when she thought she had. There have been times when she knew she hadn’t. There have even been times when she wished she had.” She smiled bitterly, remembering the handsome television actor who’d once shared a platonic weekend with her. “There was a guy, once. A sweetheart of a person. And, oh, what a beauty he was! He will haunt her dreams forever!”

“Sounds like another of those non-existent relationships. Sounds like she never got to know the real guy.”

Amy tore her eyes off the trout stream. “There wasn’t time for them. But she got to know what was important about him: that she could trust him with her feelings. He seemed so open, so vulnerable. Nobody had ever hurt him enough to put a callous on his heart. He didn’t know how to be hurtful to anyone.”

“And that would be her answer for love? She’d settle for that? Wouldn’t she miss the spark?”

She looked at him levelly. “The spark of love? You mean, don’t you, the spark of sex? Of lust?”

“It’s generally what brings two people together, and then they build a friendship. If they don’t develop love, they don’t last together very long because lust doesn’t last. Sex burns itself out. It needs love to keep it going and the couple together.”

“You’re a worse romantic than I could ever dream of being!”

“I try to be honest.”

“Why aren’t you married then?”

“Because I’m having too much fun as a bachelor. And because I’ve never felt that spark down deep enough to develop a festering itch.”

“A festering itch? Is that what you call love?”

“Yes, because it would only take a lifetime commitment to appease it.”

“Marriage?”

“Not necessarily. I’ve seen too many people trapped in a loveless marriage. Or worse yet, they’re just using the marriage for mutual protection.”

“Love got to be a habit for them.”

“It’s better than being alone. That’s what scares most people: being alone.”

“Is that what scares you about me, Ray? Are you afraid I’ll take Tommy away and you’ll be alone? It’ll happen someday, you know. If not me, then some other girl will snap Tommy up.”

“It’s not that I’ll be alone. I just don’t think you’re right for Tommy.”

“We’re not getting married! We’re just having a good time. Oh, we’re talking in circles. Our conversations always come back to that.”

“It’s because ‘that’ is a pretty important topic.”

“Tell you what, let’s make a pact not to talk about ‘that’ for twenty-four hours.”

He grinned. “What, then, would we talk about? It’s all we have in common. It’s like people on a bus tour trying not to call the vehicle a bus. They’re supposed to say ‘motor coach.’ Can you imagine how difficult that is to do?”

“We do, too, have more in common than--” She struggled to finish her sentence.

Ray lifted an eyebrow. “Time’s wasting, missy. What‘s on your mind?”

“--that!’” 

“There’s always ‘that’, there’s always you and Tommy being together. We need a new topic.“

Amy grinned. “We both love this prairie! We could talk about it.”

“You’re drinking it in with a stranger’s eyes. Eventually, you could make it your own. Me, I’ve never known anything else. I don’t see it anymore as something unique. It’s just home. Maybe through your eyes, it could glisten for me again.”

She cocked her head sideways. “My, you get poetic when you’re turned loose, don’t you?”

“Maybe that’s something else you’re bringing out in me.”

“And you still feel them here, don’t you? All of the people who came before you, all of the ones who have lived on this land.”

He squinted out into the prairie, out into the bright sunshine. “Yep.”

She turned, her eyes shining, looking in all directions. “Oh, Ray, I want to experience it all! I want to feel the presence of the pioneers and the Indians before them. I want to feel at home with the present day ranchers and farmers. I’ve never felt this way about a place before. I’ve never wanted to feel the rhythm of its pulse or wanted to become a part of that rhythm before like I do here.”

“Are you wanting to put down roots with Tommy?” he asked gently.

She pointed at him and grinned. “Now who’s talking about ‘that?’”

He shook his head and grinned back. “Guilty. This is going to be a hard topic to avoid.”

“See? It seems to be uppermost in our thinking, isn‘t it?”

“Seems to be.“ He glanced at the sun dipping toward the western horizon. “It’s time to start thinking about getting supper and doing chores.”

They headed out of the willows.

“Always chores,” she mused. “There’s a lot of eating goes on around here, isn’t there?”

“There’s a lot of animals on this place. Take care of them and they’ll take care of you and your bank account so you can eat.”

“Thank you for taking me to your private place, Ray. I appreciate your sharing it with me.”

“It was more than sharing.” He stopped and looked away.” I needed a place to tell you something.”

She glanced at him and decided not to remind him that they had already left his private place. “Yes?”

He frowned and looked down. “Amy--”

His using her name frightened her. “Yes?” she could barely whisper.

“I’m going down to Denver for a few days.”

Cold fear stabbed her heart. “Why?”

“Business. There’s some things I have to see about. Some banking. And some other things.”

“I mean, why? Why now?”

“I got a telephone call.”

“You know what I mean,” she said lowly.

He reached out and touched her hand with his finger. “We need a breather. There’s too much going on between us.” He withdrew his hand.

Amy didn’t speak because she knew that he’d experienced a powerful emotion. She’d practically felt the jolt that had coursed through him. 

“So?” she asked with belligerence in her voice. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You know why. Tommy,” he whispered. “So, I want us to back off.”

“Ray, we can be just friends!”

His dark eyes burned into hers. “Can we?”

She stared back and knew he was right. She nodded her head.

“Tommy’s going to take me to the train early tomorrow morning.”

“And there’s no talking you out of this?”

He shook his head.

She breathed deeply and tossed back her head. “All right, then!”

“Amy--”

“We got a deal then. You go away, whatever you are to me, and get rid of whatever you are to me. And I’ll do the same housecleaning here. Then you return here as my friend.” She smiled crookedly. “I think I can live with that.”

“Amy--”

“Call me ‘missy,’ you bastard,” she said lowly. “Or I won’t be able to do this!”

“It’s hard on me, too.”

She smiled brightly. “Of course, it is. You’re the dedicated uncle who thinks the world of his nephew and is willing to give up anything for him. So you will. That’s real feeling for you.”

“God, girl, don’t be bitter.”

“Tell you what I might be when you get back. I might be gone.” He looked so hurt that she wished she hadn’t said it. “Hell, I’ll be here. Don’t worry.” Then she got a little angry. “Why don’t you want to see if there’s really something between us?”

“I just need some time.”

“You’re afraid I can’t commit.”

“That’s part of it. Us, we just don’t make sense.”

“Maybe that’s the beauty of it. Love hardly ever makes sense, Ray.”

“Don’t use that word. What we’re feeling is merely shared lust.”

She blinked. “This sounds like the right conversation, but the wrong people having it.”

He frowned. “Will you honor this breather?”

She shrugged. “What else can I do?” She smiled brightly. “So, have a good trip.”

He reached for her, thought better of it, and withdrew his hand. He acted like he didn’t quite know what to do.

“And hurry home,” she whispered harshly. “I’ll say goodbye now.” She threw her arms around him, hugged him, brushed her lips across his, pushed him away, and scurried toward the house before he quite knew what was happening.

 

The next morning, Amy shuffled into the kitchen and glanced at Ray bent over inside the refrigerator. “You guys shouldn’t have let me sleep so late.” She reached for the coffee pot, then wrinkled her eyebrows and turned. “Ray? What are you doing here? I thought Tommy was taking you to catch the train.”

The man straightened and whirled around. His startled face was not as ugly as Ray’s. Otherwise, he was a younger version of Ray.

“Oh! Who are you?!” She pulled down on the baggy T-shirt, knowing it was inadequate covering for her body.

The man grinned. Curly, black hair littered his forehead, and his dark eyes twinkled. “Looks like Brother Ray can still pick them.” He slammed shut the refrigerator door and carried his booty to the table. “Gone to catch the train, has he? Well, that explains where everyone is.” 

“He had to go down to Denver on business.“

The man frowned as he slapped a hunk of cold fried beefsteak between two pieces of bread, took a huge bite, and chewed. “And that explains his absence. I should’ve known that Ray would be gone on ‘business’ if I swung by on a visit.”

Amy poured herself a cup of coffee and took a sip to steady her nerves. “So, you’re a Nolan brother? Nobody ever mentioned you.”

He grinned. “No wonder. I’m Dwight, the black sheep of the family. I’ve just gotten back from a stock show in Houston. I’m a cattle buyer and a sometimes rodeo rider. I generally live in town and don’t make it out here too often.” He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I better change that. This ranch just got a whole lot more interesting. Just who are you, anyway, Sis?” he asked as he took another huge bite out of his sandwich. “I don’t believe I’ve heard anything about you.”

Amy stood. “I’m going to scramble some eggs. Want some?”

The man nodded around what he was chewing.

“I’m Amy Lindell,” she said as she stirred eggs into the iron skillet. “And I’m a friend of Tommy’s.”

The man swallowed hard. “Tommy’s? He must’ve grown up some since he took that trip to Yellowstone.”

With a smile, Amy arched an eyebrow at him. “During.”

Dwight Nolan guffawed, then gave her a stripping glance. “Amy, girl, I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

She ladled part of the scrambled eggs onto his plate. “Back off, cowboy. I don’t service the ranch, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Dwight laughed again, but his eyes were calculating as he took her measure. “You’re right. I can’t imagine Ray touching anything of Tommy’s, even if he wanted to.”

Amy sat down opposite him and began to butter her toast. “Ray’s pretty protective of Tommy, isn’t he?”

“Ray was awfully young when Tommy was left in his care. He gave up what remained of his youth to make a home for Tommy and me. As a kid brother, I didn’t have the responsibilities that saddled Ray. I must’ve been quite a trial to him when I was in high school. Hell, I was just a normal, buck-snorting kid. But our parents were gone and so were Tommy’s folks, so Ray had all this responsibility on his shoulders. Then I went into the service and saw the world. After that, I became a rodeo bum and had a great time while Ray‘s back here keeping the home fires burning.”

“And that makes you a black sheep? Sounds normal to me.”

“Me, too. But Ray never got to do those things.” He got up to refill his coffee cup and offered her some.

“Yes, please.” She took a sip. “And you think Ray resents you for living your life the way you want?”

“I KNOW so!” He slammed the coffee pot down and swung his long leg over the top of the chair to sit down. “Brother Ray can freeze you with looks that would ice over the Arctic. Care to see my frostbite scars?”

She grinned. “No, thanks.”

“Maybe you have some of your own.”

“Maybe.”

“I bet Ray isn’t exactly thrilled to have you here. I bet he lets you know it, too.”

“I bet you’re right.”

“Damn it! I wish that Ray would loosen up and enjoy himself.”

“He sees women.”

“I mean, something serious. I wish he’d fall hard for someone and learn what the rest of us poor snooks go through with heartaches.”

“You want him to get hurt by some woman?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I love my brother. I just want him to live a little. And if getting hurt in a romantic situation is the answer, so be it. At least, he would’ve had the experience.”

“You’ve got some pretty romantic notions.”

“I believe in the saga of the cowboy and the romance of the prairie,” he said with a lazy smile.

She arched an eyebrow. “And to Ray, it’s all work.”

“See what I mean? You understand him. Maybe you can help him.”

“We’re friends. And even if we weren’t, there’s a Tommy. To Ray, I’m off limits.”

Dwight grinned widely. “You’ve thought about it!”

Amy stood and gathered their plates. “Every man is a potential partner.” She pulled the dishpan out from under the sink.

“And me?”

Amy turned and looked at Dwight levelly. “We’ve known each other, what? Half an hour? I think you’re pushing your luck, cowboy.”

Dwight laughed and slapped the table. “Amy, darlin’, excuse me for repeating myself, but I think we’re going to get along just fine!”

The back door flew open and a joyful Tommy ran into the kitchen. “Uncle Dwight! I thought that was your pickup!”

Dwight jumped up and they grappled each other in a friendly bear hug.

“Howdy, little partner! How’s my little buckaroo?”

Tommy pulled away from Dwight. His face was flushed and his blonde hair was mussed. He swatted at his hair to straighten it. “Cut it out, Uncle Dwight. Amy will think I’m just a kid.”

Dwight winked at him. “I’m sure Amy knows better than that.” He punched Tommy in the shoulder. “Sit down and take a load off. Amy, is there any coffee left? I’d sure like to have some of it, darlin’. So,” he said to Tommy , “you went and growed up on me while I was gone, didn’t you, boy?” He motioned toward Amy as she poured the coffee.

Tommy blushed and looked up at Amy with pleasure. She returned his look with a tight lipped smile. She wasn’t used to waiting tables.

“You did all right, Tommy. Amy seems like a nice young lady.”

That surprised both Amy and Tommy and they felt that they had an ally in Dwight. Amy decided that she’d pour coffee for Dwight anytime that he wanted some.

“So, Ray took off on a train?” Dwight asked as he took a sip of coffee.

“Yeah, he went down to Denver for a week,” Tommy answered.

“Ginny’s still down there?”

Ginny? Who was Ginny, Amy wondered.

“As far as we know,” Tommy answered.

“Ginny’s an old family friend,” Dwight explained to Amy’s questioning look. “She’s in a rest home.”

Amy couldn’t quite picture Ginny as the sweet, addle pated, older matron that her residence suggested. For some reason, Amy felt a chill and concluded that this ‘Ginny’ was a rival.

“I didn’t know what all Ray was going to do,” Amy tried to say lightly as she wiped soapy water across a plate. She saw Tommy and Dwight exchange looks, and knew that ‘Ginny’ was indeed somebody from Ray’s past. “He talked about doing some banking while he was gone.”

“Oh, we have some out of state money down there,” Dwight explained. “If there’s one thing our pappy taught us, it was to diversify. I don’t know how well we’ve carried out his methods, but this ranch is still in the Nolan name.” He pushed back his chair. “Well, that was a pretty good breakfast. What’s for dinner?” he asked Amy hopefully.

“Ray still does the cooking,” Tommy answered and gave Amy a wink that Dwight couldn’t see.

“But Ray isn’t here,” Dwight said patiently to Tommy. “Does your friend here cook?”

“Not much,” Amy answered, going along with Tommy’s jest. “But I could probably feed two cowboys with cast iron guts.”

“Sounds like I came home just in time. If there’s one thing the Nolan men know how to do, it’s cook. That, and make women happy.”

“Uncle Dwight! You’ll embarrass Amy.”

Dwight gave Amy an all-knowing look. “Oh, I doubt if very much embarrasses her, Tommy. Isn’t that right, Amy?”

She wiped hair out of her eyes and returned the all-knowing look. “You got that much right, cowboy.”

Dwight laughed and Tommy nervously followed suit. Amy returned to her dish washing.

“So. Amy,” Ray said slowly. “Want me to teach you how to cook?”

Amy glanced at him. “You’re too late, unless you know how to poach salmon or make other fancy dishes. Tommy’s funning you, Dwight,” she said to his puzzled face. “Ray’s already shown me the basics. He was laid up, and polishing my culinary skills gave him something to do.” 

Dwight frowned at Tommy. “Ray’s been sick?”

“He hurt his arm,” Tommy explained. “He got a thorn in it and had to take it easy for a few days.”

“Bet it drove him crazy,” Dwight muttered. “No cowboy likes to be cooped up in a house with nothing to do but woman’s work.” But he shot Amy a meaningful look.

Dwight suspected more than the trusting Tommy ever had.

“Yes, sir,” Dwight muttered. “I bet the poor guy went through hell, just sitting in the house with nothing to do except teach Amy here how to cook.”

“So,” Amy said brightly as she wiped her hands on the dishtowel. “How’s beef stew and biscuits sound for dinner, guys?”

“Sounds great, Amy!” Tommy agreed.

“Dwight?”

She and Dwight stared at each other with open looks. They understood each other perfectly.

“I think whatever you cook up is gonna taste just right, darlin.‘”

Amy whirled away before Tommy could see her sudden blush.

Dwight stood. “Come on, Tommy, I want to look over the place.”

Tommy jumped up.

“Keep the home fires burning, babe,” Dwight said softly as he passed Amy. He pushed through the screen door.

Amy grabbed some of the dirty dishes off the table.

Tommy massaged Amy’s shoulder. “Don’t let Dwight bother you any, hon. He’s really a good guy. He’s just funning you.”

Amy looked at Tommy.

“He doesn’t mean anything with his flirting, Amy. He knows that you’re my girl.” He gave her a furtive look. “I hope.”

“He’s a charmer, Tommy, but I don’t get my head turned easily. Don’t worry about him.”

“Great! I’d better hurry and catch him. See you later, hon.” He winked and gave her a knowing look. “Tonight.” He kissed Amy’s cheek and followed Dwight outside.

If Tommy wasn’t worried about Dwight, why was he acting so unsure of himself? Ray was the one he should’ve been worried about. Maybe Tommy had just been more aware of Amy’s interest in Dwight. She’d been attracted to Dwight immediately, just as she had to Ray. With Ray, though, the attraction had been sensual and hidden, while Dwight’s charm was more open and blatant. Then again it was hard to judge someone after having known him only an hour. But Dwight Nolan had sat in Ray’s place at the table. Would he take over in other areas, too? Would Amy switch her crush from Ray to Dwight?

It would be so easy to do. And Dwight might not have Ray’s scruples.

And it might make Ray so deliciously jealous.


	9. Chapter 9

Despite the ever present sexual prospects, Amy was amazed how well she and Dwight got along. Almost from the first, they felt comfortable around each other and became close friends. Amy loved spending time with Dwight, and he seemed to feel the same way.

But she had the feeling that he could see right through her and her feelings.

 

Amy pointed. “What’s wrong with that hen over there?”

Dwight grinned. “That’s an old broody hen. Notice how she looks twice as big as the other hens? She’s got her feathers deliberately fluffed out.”

“Why?”

“To provide a place for her baby chicks to nest.”

Amy looked up, fascinated. “She has babies?”

“I expect Ray and Tommy tried to break her up, but she sneaked off and hatched out a setting of eggs. She must’ve gone up in the hay loft. Otherwise, the coyotes would’ve gotten her if she started brooding out in the brush.”

“Why would you want to break her up? What does that mean, anyway?”

“It’s late in the season to be hatching chickens, so any hen that takes it in her head now to be broody, we catch and throw her in jail.”

“In jail?! You mean, in town?!”

He laughed. “No, we have a coop just for that purpose. We take her eggs away from her as she lays them until she’s out of the notion of setting and hatching.”

She socked him in his arm. “You’re against motherhood?!”

“We’re against a lot of trouble. Those chicks she hatched will draw coyotes. I doubt if most of them reach adulthood. And if they do, we’ll eat them.”

Amy frowned. “That’s all they have to live for? To be eaten by some scavenger?”

“That’s the law of the prairie. We either eat or sell anything living on this ranch.”

“Sounds like I’d better make myself useful around here.”

Dwight laughed. “We’re not cannibals. Not yet.”

“What happens when you run out of chicken and beef?”

He smiled. “I assure you that you will not appear on the menu.”

She breathed a mock sigh of relief. “Where are they?”

“What?”

“The chickens.”

He nodded. “Looks like over there by the barn.”

“I want to see them.” She started for the barn.

“I don’t know if that’s wise. Mehitabel Hen is pretty protective.”

She glanced at him. “Mehitabel Hen? Oh, that’s right. You name everything around here, don’t you?” She let her eyes slide sideways at him.

“Sure do. That chicken over there is Henrietta.”

“Henrietta?”

“Sure. Every hen house has to have a Hen-rietta. Doesn‘t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I walked into that one, didn’t I?”

He arched an eyebrow. “With both boots stomping.” He nodded. “There’s the chicks.”

Seven or eight multicolored, inbred, half-grown chicks scratched through the hay and debris around the front door of the barn. Their mother, equally as multicolored and inbred as they were, fussed among them, pointing out tasty morsels with a soft clucking.

“Oh, aren’t they cute?!” Amy squatted near them. “Can I pick one up?” She glanced over her shoulder at Dwight. The slanting sunshine shot her dark hair with golden highlights. She looked like a fresh-faced country girl.

“Better not try it. The old hen is pretty protective.”

Amy put her hand out toward one of the chicks, anyway. The old hen ran at her with a squawk and lowered head. With a cry of surprise and laughter, Amy jumped to her feet and grabbed Dwight’s arm. The hen fluttered against Amy’s leg and Dwight pulled Amy away.

Amy was laughing so hard that she collapsed against Dwight’s chest in weakness. Dwight was grinning and trying to hold Amy up. At last he got her under control and pushed her to arm’s length.

“Are you hurt?”

Amy shook her head. “Just startled. Whew! Feisty little thing, wasn’t she?”

“Be happy you’re wearing Levis. Her spurs could’ve cut your legs pretty good. We better be thinking about supper now and let the chickens get back to theirs.”

They fell into step and headed for the house.

She smiled up at him. “I enjoyed the afternoon, Dwight. Thanks for showing me the ranch and the prairie through your eyes. How lucky you were to have grown up here. You are rich, indeed.”

He frowned. “I guess you’re right. I never figured it your way. We always worried about markets and blizzards and trying to keep one step ahead of the bankers.” He nodded his head slowly. “I’m staring to see this place through your eyes. I see how it can be a refuge, also.”

“I’m glad I can help with that.”

Inside the kitchen they busied themselves with supper and chatted like old friends until Amy thought she heard a noise and glanced out the window.

“Who’s that?” she asked, nodding toward a pickup she didn’t recognize.

Dwight peered over her shoulder. “Ben Hollis, a neighbor. Looks like he’s delivering someone.” He straightened with a grim look on his face. “It’s Ray.”

With excitement, Amy took another look out the window. “Ray?”

Dwight turned aside. “Sure was a short week.”

Amy gave him a warning look. “Be nice.”

“I’ll let him set the pace.”

“Be nicer.”

“You’re asking an awful lot.”

“For Tommy?”

“You fight dirty, don’t you?”

“I know you both love Tommy. And if using that love will keep you two in line, then I most certainly intend to fight dirty.”

Dwight breathed deeply. “Okay.”

The back kitchen door opened and Ray glared at them. “Thought I saw your pickup,” he said in greeting to Dwight. He placed his Stetson on its nail.

“Evening to you, too, Brother.”

Amy glared at Dwight.

“Did you have a good trip?” Amy prompted.

“So, so. Is there any coffee hot?” Ray asked as he sat down.

He looked hot and dusty and tired so Amy quickly put the filled cup by his hand. He took a swallow.

“When did you get in?” he asked Dwight.

“Apparently, just as you were leaving.”

“You’ve been here a week?” He looked from Dwight to Amy and back to Dwight. “Why aren’t you out helping Tommy?”

Dwight held up his right arm. “Healing up. Bull gored me down in Trinidad. I come home to rest awhile, brother, if that’s all right with you. You didn‘t even ask why I was coming here when I called.”

“I don’t believe in long phone calls. Staying long?”

Amy glared at Ray, but he ignored her.

“Like I said, until I heal up some. If that’s alright with you.”

“Hell, I always did say the place would always be part yours, even if you’d already taken your share in cash.” Ray nodded at Amy and said what was really on his mind. “She been your nurse?”

“Sometimes. Understand you know that she’s good at it. I heard that you tangled with a thorn tree and lost, and Amy had to make you mind.” He gave Ray a knowing look. “Just like she did with me.”

“I bet neither one of you fought that nursing very much.”

Dwight glanced at Amy. “I think he just insulted both of us.” His voice was light, but his dark eyes had a hard look in them. Then he looked back at Ray. “Amy and I have been good little boys and girls. You’ll just have to trust us on that one, Ray.”

Ray pulled himself out of his chair and headed for the living room. “Ginny says ‘Hi,’” He looked back from the living room door. “Or, at least she would, if she ever would say something again.” The door closed on him.

Dwight’s face was a deep shade of anger.

“What was that all about?”

“Don’t ask!” Dwight walked in circles and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ginny was Ray’s girl, years ago. I took her away from him and then left town. Ginny never got over it. Then her mind went bad. She had to be put in a nursing home. Her relatives took her down to Denver so she could see the mountains. Looking at them seems to bring her peace. I never intended to hurt her, Amy. Or him. Hell, I was just a kid! I wasn’t serious, but she was. That’s something else that Ray’s never forgiven me for. You can see why I don’t come home very much.” 

The back door opened and Tommy looked around with expectation on his face. “Did Uncle Ray just get home?”

“Yeah,” Dwight said because Amy couldn’t reply. “He’s getting washed up.”

 

Except for Tommy’s gushing, supper was a quiet affair. Tommy was thrilled to have both of his uncles home, but even he could feel the strain between them.

“There’s a dance over in Morley tonight,” Tommy informed the table. “Amy and I are going. Does anyone else want to go along?”

“I have a lot of book work to catch up on,” Ray answered. “Guess I better stay here and dig in. I’ll probably turn in early, too. It’s been a long week.”

Dwight set down his off cup. “Getting old, Ray?” he asked quietly.

Not a sound was heard around the table.

“No. But somebody around here has to work.”

Dwight flushed, but he slowly grinned. He’d just realized that he and Ray were going to be left by themselves that evening. And he, for one, didn’t like the sounds of that prospect. “I think I’ll take up the kids’ invitation. It’s been awhile since I’ve been dancing.”

Ray pushed back his chair. “You do that. Have yourself a ball,” he muttered and stalked out of the room.

Tommy looked startled, Dwight looked frustrated, and Amy felt angry as she ran after Ray and caught him in the living room.

“You get back in there and be nice to your brother!”

Ray gave her a tired look. “And you keep out of our business, missy.”

She pointed toward the kitchen. “He’s your brother!”

“I’m well aware of that,” he answered softly. “But there’s times he forgets it.”

“He was just a kid when that thing happened with Ginny.”

“So, he’s told you about that?”

“He’s told me a lot of things.”

“Yes, I suppose you were able to do a lot of, ah, talking, in a week‘s time.”

She drew back her hand to slap him, then slowly let it fall. “Why are you being so mean to us, Ray? Dwight and I got to be friends. That’s all. Nothing else happened.”

“But it could have. I know both of you.”

Amy blushed, then her face drained of color. “How dare you judge us! At least we’re human!”

“You want me to act human? Okay, listen to this: I thought about you all week, and it wasn’t as a friend. Human enough for you? And then I come home.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “And I find him.”

“But it’s his home, too! What was that you said? You were thinking of me, but not as a friend? What did you mean by that?”

He tried to walk around her. “Forget it. It was a slip of the tongue.”

“Ray! What was it you meant?”

He took her by the shoulders. “It meant I wasn’t thinking straight. I guess I was a little homesick.”

She tried to search his tired eyes. “And I meant ‘home’ to you?”

“Crazy, huh?” He massaged her arms. “You go on to the dance with them.”

“But--”

“Go on now. I got work to do.”

She grabbed him around the waist and buried her head on his chest. “Come with us!”

Ray screwed his eyes shut and hugged her back. “Oh, Amy,” he whispered. Then he pushed her at arms’ length. “You better go find Tommy.”

“But--”

He pushed out of her arms and headed for his bedroom.

Amy watched him until he disappeared, then she did as he had told her.

Inside his familiar bedroom, Ray dropped on his bed and slumped forward wearily. Finding Dwight when he came home had taken all the starch out of him. He lay down across his bed. The book work could wait until tomorrow.

 

Dance music poured out the VFW in Morley. Cars and pickups were pulling into the parking lot in the long twilight, and the traffic would not let up until sometime toward morning.

Tommy, Amy, and Dwight stood in the parking lot and stared at the open doorway from where the music, noise, and bright lights were pouring.

Tommy flashed his biggest grin. “Well, shall we?” He headed for the door.

Amy hung back for a moment. Dwight touched her arm.

“Are you all right?”

Her thin smile quivered. “I should ask you the same question.”

“Come on, don’t let him spoil your evening.“ He took her arm and led her toward the door. “Ray’s bark can be as bad as his bite.”

“And hurt twice as much.”

He stopped her just inside the door. “Just what is going on between you and Ray, anyway?”

“Apparently, nothing. We decided last week to be friends.”

Dwight frowned. “Are you sure that’s all?”

“Believe me, that’s a lot. He’d been pretty suspicious of me since Tommy brought me to the ranch.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” Dwight muttered.

Tommy grabbed Amy’s arm. “Come on, honey! Let’s show them how to rock ’n’ roll!” And he pulled Amy away from Dwight and his probing questions.

On the dance floor, Amy quickly forgot her melancholy and joined in the spirit of the dancing. Music could always soothe her and be her salvation. Following the steps and gyrating to the rhythm stirred something primitive in her.

Tommy grinned at her flushed face at the end of the song. “That’s better. You look like you’re having a good time now.”

“Oh, yes! I’m glad you suggested coming to this dance. It’s just what I was needing.”

The band swung into ‘San Antonio Rose,’ and Amy saw a hand held out to her. 

Dwight grinned. “I believe this is my dance.”

She accepted, and with a smile they swept away into the two-step.

 

“They look pretty good together, don’t they?” someone asked at Tommy’s shoulder.

“Uncle Ray! I thought you weren’t coming to the dance. You said you were tired.”

“A nap and a shower can work wonders, boy.”

Out on the dance floor, Dwight was whirling Amy and she was laughing. “Mercy!” she yelled.

“Never!” He whirled her once again as she shrieked. Then he held her close and danced normally. He grinned. “It’s good to see you smiling again.”

She grinned up at him. “I can’t stay melancholy for long. Not when there’s music around.”

Dwight nodded in the direction behind her where they’d left Tommy. “How about if Ray’s around?” He whirled her so she could see him.

Amy looked right into Ray’s eyes, and she dropped her mouth open.

Dwight whirled her again so her back was to Ray. “I suppose your evening’s ruined now.”

“Nonsense! I was just upset with Ray because he wasn’t very nice to you.”

He frowned down at her. “I’ll ask you again. Do you mean to tell me that there’s nothing between you and Ray?”

“There’s Tommy. He’s between us.”

“And if there was no Tommy?”

“Then I’d never been here.”

“And I wouldn’t have met you. What a shame.”

“I have to remind you that Tommy is between you and me, too.”

“That boy’s kind of an aggravation, isn’t he? Don’t look so shocked. I wouldn’t hurt Tommy for the world. But I wouldn’t be so gentlemanly, either. If I wanted you, and I’m not saying that isn’t the case, then I’d go after you. I don’t care who the other guy was, whether it was nephew, or brother. I’d think enough of you and of my feeling for you that I’d fight tooth and nail for you. You’re a wonderful person, Amy. Just because my big brother doesn’t have sense enough to know that, don’t think that the rest of the family is stupid.”

“Thanks, Dwight. I’m happy that we’re friends.”

Dwight delivered her back to Tommy, but he looked at Ray. “Your turn, Ray.”

“I do my own asking, Dwight. I don’t need a social director, thank you.”

“Will you two just stop it?!” Amy demanded.

The strains of ‘The Tennessee Waltz’ began.

“Missy?” Ray held his hand out to Amy, but his eyes were on Dwight in challenge.

Amy took Ray’s hand, and he led her out onto the floor and began dancing.

“Don’t take this mess between you and Dwight out on Tommy and me!” she hissed.

“Are you going to start fighting with me now, missy?”

She forcefully got her temper under control. “No.”

“It’s a beautiful waltz. At least, it’s something I can dance to.”

“Why did you say you thought about me while you were gone to Denver?”

He sighed. “Because I did. I missed you. Now, don’t let that go to your head. I missed Tommy, too. And the ranch. And the view of the hills across the south pasture. Hell, I missed about everything that reminded me of home, even the thieving coyotes.”

“I’m glad I was of some use.”

He got a crafty look on his face. “Know what I missed most? These little sparring matches that we call conversations. I felt like I was getting a little lax down in Denver without you to keep me on my toes.”

“Maybe you should’ve stood out in the middle of rush hour traffic, and then all of that whizzing around you would’ve made you feel at home.”

He grinned. “You’re wrong. NOW I feel at home. Where do you get that stuff, girl? You sure have a mouth on you.”

Her eyes snapped. “Maybe you just bring it out in me.” She stepped away from him. “The music’s over. Thanks for the dance.” She walked back toward Tommy, and Ray had no option except to follow her off the dance floor.

She shook her hair back from her face in time to the music that had just started. “Tommy, it’s your turn. I doubt if either of these guys would try this song, anyway.”

Tommy grinned at her. “’The Mountain of Love‘? Of course, they wouldn’t! It’s pure rock ’n’ roll! It’s not of their generation!”

She grabbed his hand. “Let’s rock ’n’ roll then!”

They bounced off together.

Ray started to move away, but Dwight touched his arm. “Stay and watch, Ray. They should give us quite a demonstration.”

Amy and Tommy flew back and forth, gyrating madly to the music. They were a perfectly oiled machine, keeping exact time to the jungle beats of the music. Then Amy danced a solo. She moved her shoulders back and forth, riveting her eyes with Tommy’s the whole time. He backed off and clapped encouragement. Her whole body undulated from her neck to her hips. She threw her arms over her head and turned in a slow circle, then acknowledged the applause she was receiving. With a kiss on her lips, she swiveled back toward Tommy. He grabbed her and they went back to dancing the rock ’n’ roll pattern. The other dancers joined in the dancing again. 

“See?” Dwight said. “Didn’t I tell you we’d get quite a demonstration?”

“Sure. Of a tease.”

“Ray, for Christ’s sake, wake up! The girl’s just having fun out there!”

Ray glanced coolly at his brother. “Are you sure it wasn’t for my benefit, or yours?”

“Well, if it had been, I’d sure as hell been a lot more receptive to it than you were! What kind of idiot have you turned into?!”

“The kind that doesn’t steal a brother’s sweetheart.”

“How about a nephew’s?”

Ray lowered his eyes.

The music stopped, but neither brother realized it.

Dwight frowned. “Is that what’s wrong? You slipped up and fell for her, and now you’re no better than I was with Ginny?”

Ray muttered something and started to turn away.

“Well, let me tell you something, Ray. I don’t care if there is something between you and Amy. At last, maybe you’ve gone and done something human. And do you know what? I’m not going to condemn you for it.”

Ray looked tired again. “What makes you think I have any feelings for Amy outside of friendship? Why should I want her? She’s nothing special. She’s too easy to get. It doesn’t matter to her. Amy can be anybody’s girl.”

Somebody behind Ray gasped in surprise.

In the pocket of dead silence that followed, Dwight glanced up, dropped his mouth open, and stared in startled horror over Ray’s right shoulder.

Ray’s eyes widened in disbelief, and he whirled with remorse in his heart. “No! Amy--”

“Anybody’s, am I?!” Her eyes blazed with anger while a white-faced Tommy stood slack-jawed beside her.

“Amy, I didn’t mean it.”

“Then why did you say it, Ray?!”

“I don’t know. I was hurting, and I wanted to hurt back. But I was wrong.”

Pride stiffened Amy’s backbone and brought her head up defiantly. “Perhaps I could be anybody’s. Let’s test that theory, shall we?!”

Before Ray could react, Amy reached up, grabbed his face with both her hands, brought his head down to hers, and kissed him fully on the mouth. She felt his hands grab her arms and try to push her away. But her grip could not be broken as she tried to punish him with her lips.

Then she felt his arms go around her and pull her toward him. That wasn’t supposed to happen, but Amy could do nothing to change it because her head was suddenly whirling. The kiss softened, and Amy clung to him for support.

Ray roughly pushed her away and broke the kiss and the support of his arms. Amy stumbled, disoriented, then became aware of the delighted laughter and hoots of encouragement from their audience.

Ray’s eyes bore into hers with anger and hatred. She had embarrassed him terribly in front of his friends and acquaintances. He’d never live down his humiliation.

But what was worse was that she had made a mockery of any warm feelings between them. She’d been trying to make a point, but had succeeded only in alienating him. For now that it was over, Amy realized that he’d been answering her kiss with a sweet pressure all his own. He had conquered her anger with a stronger emotion. Her kiss must’ve meant something to him, something beyond mere flirtation. But in the process of placating her, the anger had gone from her to him.

But, perhaps the worst outcome of her impulsive action was that she had sacrificed their delicate friendship for a moment’s revenge.

“Ray, I’m sorry, I--”

Ray glared at her, turned, and pushed through the cheering crowd.

“Oh, Dwight, I’ve humiliated him.”

Dwight could only stare at Ray’s disappearing back.

She fumbled for Tommy’s hand. “Tommy--”

Tommy frowned. “He’ll mend by morning, honey. Generally, he can take a joke better than that.” He frowned down at her. “It was a joke, wasn’t it?”

Amy nodded, but she wondered if morning would bring a change Ray. He looked as if he hated her.

Gamely, she raised her head. “I came to this dance to dance. I’ve got two good looking guys escorting me. Who wants to try this schottische?”

Dwight rallied and smiled slowly. “Guess that’s my cue to offer you my hand, in a dance.”

“Charmer, aren’t you?” she mocked.

They hurried onto the dance floor, but their merry comments sounded hollow to their ears. Each was thinking of Ray stalking humiliated, but proudly, out of the dance hall. The image would haunt them the rest of the evening, although they would be able to act as if they were relaxing and enjoying their dancing.

 

Around one-thirty in the morning, they decided to go home.

“I’ll meet you two out at the pickup,” Dwight told them at the front door. “I want to duck into the men’s room for a moment. That beer is going straight through me. And I don‘t want to wee, wee, all the way home.”

Tommy and Amy, both slightly tipsy from beer, too, giggled and held each other up.

“It’s good for the kidneys!” Tommy yelled after Dwight. “It keeps them pumping!”

Dwight waved Tommy away and disappeared into the crowd.

Tommy hugged Amy around the shoulders and steered her outside. “My chariot awaits!” he yelled, and she giggled in reply. Gravel crunched under their boots as they weaved across the parking lot. Tommy nuzzled her ear. “That’s not the only thing that awaits you,” he whispered. “Just wait until I get you home. I’m going to show you such action, you’ll have to sleep until noon just to get all your dreams in.”

Amy clung to him, but the night air and his promise were sobering her. She didn’t want to respond to his advances tonight. Perhaps he’d simply pass out when they reached home, and he’d leave her alone to her thoughts. She had to have time to think about Ray.

Ray. Why had she done that to him? Why had she--

“There she is, boys,” said a voice from under the dark branches of a tree at the edge of the parking lot. “There’s that hot bitch.” The man materialized from the shelter of the tree, and so did three other men. “Hello, bitch,” growled the first man.

Tommy stopped. “Eh?”

“Get away, sonny. I hear your Mommy calling you.”

The other men softly laughed, and Amy felt them leering down at her.

“Watch out, you guys!”

One man stepped forward. “No, you watch, sonny. We’ll let you. We’ll show you what real men can do with a cunt-tease like this. You’re welcomed to come along and watch. We’re taking her out into the dark woods so we can have all the privacy and time with her that we want. We ain’t going to be in a hurry, and we intend to be thorough so she’ll savor every inch she’ll be getting. We’ll get that ass twisting on the ground for her. We’ll give her a proper workout so you can get some rest and finish growing up. She‘s stunting your growth, boy!”

The four men laughed lowly, and one reached for Amy’s arm. She screamed and stepped backwards.

“You take your hands off her!” Tommy rushed the man who’d touched Amy.

But the man only held Tommy away while two other men grabbed Amy. She struggled and screamed and felt her clothing rip.

The two men were suddenly yanked violently away from Amy so hard that she nearly fell down. Dwight dove into the two men and sent them flying. Tommy revived with the reinforcements and tore into the man who held him. The fourth man stared at his brawling companions, then grabbed Amy’s arm.

“Come on, darlin’. I like this idea better myself. I won’t have to share you.”

Tommy broke loose from his tormentor and tackled the man pulling Amy away. They sprawled on the ground, but Tommy immediately hopped up. He’d managed to knock the man unconscious.

“That’s more like it, Tommy!” Dwight yelled. “Two Nolans against four goons! That makes the odds about even!”

A car pulled into the parking lot and its headlights caught the struggling combatants. “Let’s get out of here!” someone yelled. The four would-be attackers scattered and the fight was suddenly over.

Dwight dusted off his clothes and watched the fleeing men as pain registered and he grabbed his right forearm. His wound from the bull goring had reopened.

“Dwight! Tommy’s hurt!” Amy called to Dwight.

Dwight ran to where Tommy sat on the gravel and dropped to the ground beside him and Amy.

“What’s wrong, boy?”

“It’s his arm!” Amy answered. “I think it’s broken!”

“Here, let me see.”

“Aw!”

“Sorry, Tommy. Amy, we have to get him to the hospital. Here, wrap my bandanna around my arm.”

“Did you get knifed?!” Amy demanded when she saw the blood.

“Damned bull’s getting another laugh. Tie the bandanna tight so I don’t bleed all over the damned pickup. Come on, let’s hoist Tommy up and get him out of here before the cops get here. I’ve got to call home, too. Ray ain’t never going to believe this one! He‘s gonna shit a brick!”

Amy wanted to ask if that wouldn’t be painful for Ray, but she figured now wasn’t the time for humor. Besides, she figured that Dwight was right.


	10. Chapter 10

Groggy-headed, Ray stumbled toward the ringing telephone. “Hello?” He cleared his throat. “What the hell do you want?! And this better not be no goddamn wrong number, neither!”

“Ray, are you awake enough to listen up?”

“Dwight, what the hell are you doing calling in the middle of the night?! Where in the hell are you, anyway?!”

“I’m at the hospital in Morley.”

Then it all came back to Ray. Dwight was home for a visit. He’d been left with Amy and Tommy at a dance. That was hours ago. Something bad must’ve happened.

The telephone felt like ice in Ray’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” he croaked.

“We’ve had a little trouble. Can you get over here right away? Listen, it’s not an emergency. We’re okay.”

But Ray had slammed the phone back on its receiver without answering or even hearing all of what Dwight had said to him.

 

Half an hour later Ray ran into the emergency room door of the hospital, stopped and looked around, then saw Dwight sitting in the waiting room. Ray hurried toward him, but stopped short and frowned when he saw blood all over Dwight’s clothes. A big bandage encased his right arm.

Dwight glanced up and his dark Indian features looker sharper against his unnaturally white skin.

Ray bent and placed his hand on Dwight’s left shoulder. “Are you hurt bad?”

Dwight glanced at the big bandage. “Damned arm busted open again. The Doc had to take stitches. Damned thing will probably scar bad this time.” He breathed deeply. “They want me to stay overnight for observation. I have to report upstairs as soon as I finish talking to you.”

Ray dropped into the plastic chair beside Dwight and looked around. “Where are the others?”

“Amy’s getting checked over right now. She had to wait because she didn’t have any injuries.”

Ray frowned. That meant that Tommy did have injuries. “Where’s Tommy?” he asked through the ashes in his mouth.

“He’s upstairs. He’s been admitted.” Dwight grabbed Ray’s arm to keep him from springing out of his chair. “Wait! You can’t see him now. They’ve got him sedated. He’ll sleep until sometime tomorrow.”

Ray spoke carefully and in a low voice to keep from screaming at Dwight. “How bad is he hurt?”

“Cuts and bruises, but mainly a broken arm.”

Ray closed his eyes in thanksgiving. Tommy would heal. “What happened? Did you have a wreck?”

“We were in a fight. It happened in the parking lot of the VFW just as we were leaving. Some guys wanted Amy to go with them.”

Ray exploded. “Who were the sons of bitches?!”

“Four guys who have a lot of bruises on them.” For the second time he grabbed Ray’s arm. “You can’t go looking for them. There’s no way of knowing who they were.”

“I’ll kill them!”

“Yes, I know you would.”

“They can’t bust up my family this way!”

“We’ll be all right. But we can’t have you busted up, too.”

“I’d get in some damned good licks first!”

“Yes, I know you would. But not even a Nolan can win when the odds are four against one.”

Ray’s anger abated as a calming weariness overcame him. He suddenly looked as tired as he felt. “How about if the odds were four against two?”

Dwight smiled softly. “That’s how we used to do it, wasn’t it? That’s how Tommy and I were doing it tonight. Of course, a car entering the parking lot and scaring off our attackers did even up the odds a whole lot more.”

Ray slumped. “God, I should’ve been with you.”

Dwight rubbed Ray’s arm. “You’re here now, brother. And that’s what counts.”

Ray stared at him.

Dwight straightened and nodded down the hall. “Here comes Amy.”

Ray jumped to his feet, motioned for Amy to sit in his chair, and dragged another one around for himself.

Amy looked from one inquisitive brother to the other.

“Are you all right, honey?” Dwight wanted to know.

Amy nodded, then she found her voice. “Shaken. Just shaken.” She cleared her throat, looked at her twisting hands, and shot Ray a nervous look before she said to Dwight, “I want to go sit with Tommy for awhile.”

Dwight massaged her hands. “You wouldn’t do him any good, honey. He’s sleeping now. And that’s what you need to be doing. You’re exhausted.”

“But--”

“You can come back tomorrow. Right now, you need to get some rest.”

Amy frowned, but nodded.

“Just what happened, anyway?” Ray demanded.

“We were headed for the pickup when these four guys came out of the shadows,” Amy answered. “They must’ve been at the dance and followed us.”

“That’s what I thought.” Ray glared at her. “They probably watched you making a spectacle of yourself out on the dance floor and decided it’d be easy to grab a piece of hot pussy for themselves.”

Amy blushed and drew her breath in sharply.

“Ray, now isn’t the time--”

“When better?” Ray snapped at Dwight. “There’s broken Nolan bodies scattered all over this hospital.” He glared at Amy. “How many more sacrifices will it require before you’re satisfied, missy?”

Amy dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Ray, don’t do this to her. She needs your support, not your blame!”

“And I need her staying out of my life!” Ray jumped to his feet. “Hell, I’ve got to get some fresh air!” He stomped toward the emergency door.

Amy dropped her mouth open to protest as her tear-filled eyes followed Ray, but no sound came out.

Dwight squeezed her hand. “Go after him, Amy. I can’t leave. I have to stay here overnight. Don’t let him go after those guys. And don’t let him be by himself. Talk to him all night if you have to, but keep him company so he doesn’t get melancholy or frustrated. You shouldn’t be by yourself, either. You and Ray will have to take care of each other tonight, honey.”

“But, he hates me--”

“He does nothing of the sort. He’s just upset. But he needs you now, girl. Go be with him. Don’t let him leave without you. He’ll get hurt if he does.”

Amy jumped out of the chair and ran after Ray.

The hospital parking lot was shot with shadows and light as Amy spotted Ray. She ran across the crunchy gravel toward him.

“Ray! Wait!”

He glanced back at her, but continued his walking.

“Ray, wait!” she gasped as she grabbed his arm.

“Why did you leave Dwight alone?”

She frowned. “What is it with you Nolans? I can’t be two places at once! He sent me after you! I’m supposed to go home and rest, remember?”

“And you’re probably in no shape to drive Dwight’s pickup.”

“I drove it to the hospital! I was the only one in it with two good arms! Hell, yes, I can drive it home!”

“Yeah, and pure adrenaline was pushing you, too. Now, you’re probably in shock and shouldn’t be driving. Forget that I mentioned Dwight’s pickup, and get in mine.”

Amy stomped her foot down and gravel flew. “I can drive his fucking pickup!”

“Sh-h-h!” Ray put up his hand to shush her and looked around to see if anyone had heard her outburst.

Amy turned toward Dwight’s pickup, but Ray grabbed her arm.

“Let me go!”

“Get in my pickup!”

“I will not!”

Ray shook her arm. “Listen, you stubborn little idiot! I’ll hog-tie you and throw you in back where you won’t be very comfortable with all that rolled up barbed wire, but you will ride in my truck! Now--” He gave her a rough shove. “Get in the God damned pickup!”

Amy stumbled, caught herself by grabbing the door, and sprawled awkwardly inside the cab on the rider‘s side.

Ray slammed the door shut, jumped behind the wheel, and gunned the pickup down the street with squealing tires. A block later, he glared at Amy crumpled in the corner. “Now, I suppose I bruised your arm.”

She stopped rubbing the sore spot and straightened in defiance. “You, or some other manly stud did.”

“Thanks for putting me in that group of your would-be rapists. It really makes me feel like I’m doing my good deed for the day.”

“And the day’s just starting,” she remarked airily. “Just think of how much good you can accomplish by this time tomorrow.”

He stared ahead as the pickup left the city limits and plunged into the dark night. “Look, missy, we better call a truce on this shit. I think we better cool off before we say something bad.” He glanced at her. “Okay?”

“Fine with me!” She crossed her arms and slumped in her seat, and then she straightened. “What will we talk about, then?”

“How about, let’s not talk at all and just enjoy the drive?”

“How? With no moon and no stars? Just overcast skies? Boy, sure sounds like a scenic, breath taking ride to me!”

“Silence wasn’t just a suggestion, missy. I’ve got me one helluva headache, and it’s gotten a whole lot worse since I saw you again.”

Well, if that was the way he wanted it, she would make him think that he was in here with the Egyptian Sphinx.

She looked over her right shoulder at the disappearing lights of Morley. The prairie before them felt vast and empty with only him and her in it. Suddenly, she felt very alone and unsure of herself. She wanted some reassurance from him, but he didn’t seem to want to talk, so she would have to be contented with his presence.

She reached over and turned on the radio. A cowboy was wailing out his heartache over a lost love and sounded half-dead from the effort. After a few bars, Ray reached over and snapped off the radio. He and Amy glared at each other, then she concentrated on what she could see of the passing prairie.

After a few silent miles, Ray turned to her and she could see the flash of the dash lights reflected in his eyes. “Did you get your fill of twisting your ass around on the dance floor tonight for all the world to see?”

She looked out the side window. “I’m not going to answer you if you’re going to talk to me like that.” She glared back at him. “You broke our beautiful silence to ask me that? That’s been festering in your gut ever since you saw me dancing, hasn’t it? Let me tell you right now, buster, I was out on that dance floor to dance. Anything dirty was in other people’s minds, not mine.”

“All right, maybe all of what happened tonight wasn’t all your fault, but some of it was.”

“I’d be a fool to say otherwise.”

“As I need to accept my responsibility. I should’ve never left the dance without the rest of you.”

“When are you going to stop taking care of the rest of the world and just watch out for Ray Nolan?”

His mouth was grin as he glanced at her. “As soon as the rest of the world learns to take care of itself.”

“I am in the presence of greatness,” she mumbled.

“You are in the presence of someone who is trying awfully hard to keep his temper. By all rights, I should stop this pickup and let you take out across this prairie and just keep going on your own.”

“Why mess with stopping?! Just toss me out with the rest of the garbage!” She flung her door open and the momentum nearly hurled her out of the pickup.

“Hey! What the--” Ray slammed on the brakes, fought the wheel to keep the vehicle on the road, and grabbed Amy’s arm in one motion. Otherwise, she probably would’ve fallen from the truck. Ray turned toward her and shook her until her neck snapped. “Don’t you ever, ever pull that shit on me again! You could’ve gotten us both killed.”

She wilted against the seat and he reached across her to pull the door shut. She turned aside to avoid his nearing face and crushing shoulder. He studied her close up, then returned to his side of the pickup and started down the road again.

Ray knew he was exhausted by his trip home from Denver and by the emotional evening he’d endured. He knew that Amy was no better off after going through the terrifying encounter with the four men and then driving the injured Tommy and Dwight to the hospital. Ray and Amy both needed rest. Their bodies were tired and aching, and their nerves were scraped raw. They should be seeking and providing strength for one another, yet the only thing that was giving them any pleasure at the moment was fighting. If they’d been men, they could’ve settled their differences by slugging it out. But since they both weren’t men, obviously, they’d have to let words be their weapons. Except they needed a truce because they were at their physical limits. All Ray wanted was respite from this hellish, endless night, and he was sure that Amy felt the same way.

The joyful collie met them as they piled out of the pickup and walked to the house. Not another living creature seemed to exist in the black of this unreal night.

Amy stumbled once in the dark. Ray took her arm to steady her, and she shook him off.

“I can manage,” she mumbled.

Ray flicked on the kitchen light which promptly blazed in a shattering brilliance, then darkened forever.

Amy gave a small cry of alarm and stood stock still in her blindness. She could hear Ray crashing around as he groped for the pin-up lamp over the sink.

“Damn bulb,” he muttered. “Picks the worst, goddamn time to burn out and scare the living hell out of everyone.”

A dim light filled the kitchen, but left a lot of corners in shadows. The two people sighed. It was better than no light at all.

“Well, you better get on to bed,” Ray suggested. “Morning’s going to come awfully quick the way it is, and we both need our rest. Tomorrow‘s going to be trying.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep. I’m tired, but I’m all keyed up, too.” She drained a glass of water from the tap and began to drink it.

“You better try. I don’t know how long Tommy will be in the hospital, but Dwight should be home sometime tomorrow. He’ll probably need to rest up for a few days. Maybe we can fix up a day bed here in the kitchen so he won’t get lonesome. He likes mutton. Maybe I can pick up some in Morley so we can fix him a stew.”

“Are you for real?”

“What’s wrong now?”

“All these preparations for Dwight’s return from the hospital.”

“I just want to make him feel at home. What’s wrong with making him feel comfortable? That arm busting open again will make him feel low. It‘s a backset. we’ll have to pep him up.”

Amy set her glass down on the sink and shook her head. “I swear, you Nolans don’t make any sense! You’ve snarled at Dwight ever since you got home from Denver, and now you act like this!”

“I might not like everything that Dwight does, but I’m interested in his welfare. We might fight like hellcats, but nobody else touches him, understand?”

Amy’s eyes opened wide. “You love him!”

Ray looked at her strangely. “Well, of course I do. He’s my brother. We protect each other. Nothing will ever change that.” His frown deepened. “Don’t you understand that much about families?”

“I never had brothers or sisters. And my parents were never that demonstrative.”

“Surely there’s been other people, or friends--”

“Not much, until I got around you Nolans.”

Ray squeezed her hands and bit his lips into a thin line as he frowned in concern. “I’m sorry, girl,” he said softly. “I didn’t know.”

Amy fought back her tears. “I’m learning. I have good teachers now.”

Ray misunderstood. He frowned and dropped her hands. “How good?”

Suddenly, it was back. The sexual tension that often vibrated between them roared through Amy and left her weak. She was alone with Ray in the middle of a very dark night. Nobody would ever know if they-- She gripped the back of a wooden chair to steady herself.

But Ray was back on one of his favorite themes. “What have you been learning from Dwight?”

‘What I’m feeling has nothing to do with Dwight,’ she wanted to scream. “Nothing’s gone on between Dwight and me,” she mumbled, instead.

“I don’t want you hurting him, or Tommy.”

Why didn’t he shut up about other people?! Amy tossed back her hair. Lust was giving her strength and making her brazen. She moved around the chair that separated them so that nothing stood between them. “I promised, didn’t I? I won‘t hurt them.” She arched an eyebrow. “How about you, Ray? How am I supposed to treat you?”

He finally became aware of her and tried to ease the tension between them with a snort of laughter. “Don’t worry about me. I’m the one with the armadillo hide and the cactus patch protecting my heart, remember?”

She brushed her fingers across his rough cheek. “Are you sure that’s enough defenses? Was it enough in Denver? Are you protecting Tommy, or are you jealous of Dwight because you want me for yourself?”

“Bitch!” He shoved her hand aside “You’re a real tease, aren’t you? I saw how you could mock me tonight with a kiss. Can you really hate me that much?”

She stared, unblinking, into his hooded eyes. “And I saw how you cast me aside. Can YOU really hate me that much?”

Pain flashed across his face. “No!” he whispered, and it sounded as if it had been torn out of him. He grabbed her arms roughly and paid no attention to her cry of pain. “I could kill you for what you’ve done to my family!” He broke his hold on her and walked away, only to stop and look back at her. “It was a sorry day for all of us when Tommy brought you home with him. You’ve disrupted all our lives, and now it’s come down to people getting hurt over your shenanigans. Don’t you think it’s about time you did the decent thing and got the hell out of our lives?!”

Sudden tears smarted her eyes. “Please, Ray, don’t ask me to leave! Not now!” Sobs shook her. “Being in a real home means so much to me!”

He steeled himself to keep from pitying her. “It’s not your home.”

“Don’t be so hard on me, Ray!”

“Your tom catting ways just about got Tommy hurt bad.”

“A broken arm will heal!”

“That’s not the point! He shouldn’t have been in that fight at all!”

“He was fighting for my honor! It wasn’t my idea for those guys to get fresh!” she said, swatting at angry tears.

“Maybe not, but where do you suppose they got the idea they could get fresh in the first place?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Ray took a step toward her. “It’s because they think any guy can have you. You moved in with Tommy and aren’t even married! News travels! Men talk! They think you’re easy!”

“That’s old-fashioned thinking!”

“Maybe to you city folks, it is. But out here, we still think a woman should act like a lady.”

“Those chaste and pure goddesses don’t exist!”

“For us, they do. Ladies don’t sleep around. They don’t shine up to any man just because he’s available.”

“You talk like you think I’m a slut!”

“Aren’t you? For awhile, I thought you were worth honoring. But now I’m thinking my first impression was right. And you’re proving it by sniffing around Dwight.” 

She wished she could ease his obvious pain.

“Can’t answer, can you, because you know it’s the truth! You bitch! Any man can have you. That’s why I should kill you!” He searched her frightened face. “But how could I?!” he choked out. “How could I?”

He yanked her toward him. She squealed and fought him, but she was no match for his strength. He trapped her in a fierce, brutal kiss. His hands were everywhere on her body, and she felt violated. She fought him, but he was strong in his anger.

At last he released her and stepped away.

Her shaking hand snaked across her mouth to wipe the kiss away. Her whole body trembled in shock. “You bastard! I hope you’ve proven something to yourself!” Her hiccups turned into sobs.

Ray’s eyes threatened to shed tears of his own. “I didn’t enjoy it myself.”

“Then why are you punishing me?!”

“For kissing me at the dance. I wanted you to know how I felt.”

“You kissed me back!”

“I hoped you hadn’t realized that. You took me off guard at the dance, and that was pure feeling taking over. I’m not made out of stone. When someone I like kisses me, I kiss her back. I was swept on a tide of emotion, just like I hoped you were, too. Then I heard the laughter and I knew you meant to humiliate me.”

“You embarrassed me first!”

“It was a no-win situation. Ever since, I’ve wanted to hurt you back. But I’ve learned me one tough lesson through this whole sorry mess, missy. Punishment is never one-sided. I hurt myself just now, too.”

She rubbed at her watering eyes with the back of one hand. “Stop mocking me! I hate it when you call me ‘missy.’ Why do you do that?!”

The sadness in his eyes deepened. “I have to. I do it to keep from calling you ‘sweetheart.’”

Amy stopped wiping her tears and stared up at him. “What?”

“It wasn’t true at first, and I’m not exactly sure when the meaning of it started to change for me. Maybe at Uncle Billy’s funeral. Maybe the night of the lightening storm. Or maybe it was just during the quiet times when we talked and got to know each other. I just know this past week has been pure hell without you. You’ve got this old cowboy in one helluva tailspin, girl. That’s what I learned in Denver. We can’t be just friends.” He took another step toward her. “I was wrong to manhandle you just now. That’s not how I wanted to kiss you at all, missy. It’s not how I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time now. Here,” he said in a voice that was nearly a whisper. “Let me show you.”

She could see a vein beating in his throat as he neared her.

He gently gathered the staring, open-mouthed girl into his arms and softly kissed her. All of the honest sweetness he’d been storing up expressed itself as he exposed his trusting heart to her. Her hands jerked on his arms and she whimpered in protest. Could she accept such simple honesty?

Then, as the kiss deepened with passion, her arms fluttered up to encase his head. She pressed her body against his and felt an answering pressure back as his arms tightened around her.

Amy pressed her face into his shoulder and softly wept. Ray’s head hovered over hers as his hands gently shielded her back. Her whole body was vibrantly aware of him.

“Lord God in Heaven, protect us, girl! I’m on fire, and you’re the cause! I hate you and I love you and I curse the day you showed up at the ranch! You’re bad news of the worst kind, but I can’t wait to talk to you in the mornings. I wish like hell that you were nothing but the common slut I first thought you were. You’re so many more things than you seem. You’re brave. You’re funny. You’re gentle. You’re sensitive. Amy, you’re a good person. I just know you are. But you’re lost and don’t know how to find yourself. And I’m afraid I’m going to become lost myself. And do you know what? I really don’t care, as long as we’re lost together.”

She pulled away from his embrace and looked up at him. “I’m sorry I’m doing this to you, Ray.”

His grin was vicious and bitter. “Sweet misery, eh?”

She placed two fingers across his lips to silence him. “And to once think I’d thought that you were ugly. You’re beautiful.”

“Don’t go pumping me full, missy. I look in mirrors.”

“You’re beautiful to me, Ray.” She reached up to stroke his face. “And that’s all that counts. That’s all that’s important to me.” She stretched up to be kissed. 

But he took her hands and held them against his chest. “We can’t go any further, sweetheart. We can’t do what would be the most natural thing in the world to do. My heart’s ripping right out of me, but we have to stop, now. I don’t know if I can keep my resolve, with you being so close and all. Help me on this one, too, girl. I shouldn’t have come home alone with you tonight.” His eyes saddened. “I’m not saying that it wouldn’t be wonderful; it just wouldn’t be right. And I’d wind up hating the both of us.”

“Is that any worse than wondering what might’ve been?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. He raised her hands to his lips and gently kissed them. “I just know that I’m walking away from you and not looking back. It might be the dumbest think I’ll ever do, but I still have to live with myself. I can fool everybody, but me. We’ll just pretend that this little scene never took place.”

“But it did, Ray. Isn’t that being dishonest?”

He looked into her eyes for a long moment, then dropped her hands. “Go get ready for bed. It’s late, but you better take a bath. Bruises are showing up already on your face.”

“But--”

“Go on now. I’ll read a little while and listen to the radio until you get settled. I’ll try not to make noise and disturb you when I go to bed.” He headed for the living room.

Amy had no choice but to comply. She soaked for awhile in the tub, then checked the bruises that were starting to discolor her arms and shoulders. In her bedroom, she slipped into her granny gown and scooted under the covers. But she did not turn off the table lamp or lie down. She sat in bed and listened to the distant sounds of Ray preparing for his second visit to bed. He didn’t linger in the bathroom since he’d done all of his nightly preparations hours ago.

Amy must’ve dozed off for a moment for she was awakened by a light tapping on the door. Before she could answer, the door opened slightly and Ray peered inside.

“Oh. You’re awake.” He opened the door further. “I saw your light under the door. What’s wrong? Are you having trouble sleeping?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t really tried, I guess. I just want to sit here and stare off into space.”

Ray frowned and stepped into the room. “Do you want to try a sleeping pill? I’m sure I’ve got some somewhere.”

“No. No, thank you.” She picked lint off the blanket.

He stepped nearer. “Maybe you should have been held for observation overnight, too.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary. I just need to settle my nerves.” She patted the bed. “Come, sit down here and talk to me. I’m sure that’ll help me calm down.”

“It’s late.”

“We have no appointments, Ray. Be a pal, huh?”

He sat down on the spot she indicated, faced her, and glanced at the bruises starting to color her face. “I’ve seen you look better.”

Amy arched an eyebrow. “You sure know what to tell a girl to make her feel pretty, don’t you?” She smiled and felt the tension beginning to leave her body. “Don’t you have the feeling that we’ve had this conversation before?”

He grinned and nodded his head. “Back when I had to strip wet shirts off you, and I was more scared of the outcome than you were.”

“Were you, really? Were you scared of what might happen between us?”

“Hell, yes, I was! You’re a might pretty girl, Amy.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you finally noticed.”

“I noticed a long time ago, missy. I’m a normal man and there ain’t nothing wrong with my eyesight.”

“Really? Then maybe you can tell me the extent of my bruises.” She loosened the throat of her granny gown and shrugged the garment down to reveal her shoulders. “How does it look?”

Ray winced, all thought of light banter between them forgotten. “Don’t, missy,” he whispered helplessly in the painful hush of the suddenly airless room. He could hardly breathe. “Please, don’t do this to me.” 

She sensed the sexual fires that had blazed to life within him, and the knowledge both pleased and hardened her. “When you stepped through that door, you knew what might happen. Are you here because you think I’m easy?”

“No.” Ray looked defeated. “I’m here because I can’t be anywhere else.” The same ambivalent feelings that surged through her were reflected in his eyes. He reached out to touch her face. “I’ve seen you look better, but never more beautiful.” He gently stroked his rough finger across her silken cheek.

She watched him, fascinated.

Ray leaned forward and cupped her face in his work worn hands. “I can’t have you hurting, little one.”

Amy gasped because she knew what he would say, and do, next.

“You’re much too precious.” He stared into her eyes for a long moment, gently pulled her into his arms, and kissed her.

His lips left her mouth and gently touched a discoloration on her right cheek. The tiny pain registered with Amy, and she ached for more sensation. Ray dropped his head and found a deeper bruise on the top of her right shoulder. Pain and desire roared through Amy, and she moaned aloud. With a sigh, she relaxed against the pillow and he followed her down without breaking their caress.

She pushed him back to look into his smoldering eyes. “I thought you said you’d hate yourself if we did anything.”

“I’ll hate myself if we DON’T do anything.” His breath was ragged as he inhaled. “I was doing okay with my resolve until I found your wet wash rag still warm from your bath. It had touched you in places I longed to touch. I cradled it close to my chest, but it was no substitute for your body. It just made me ache worse for you. I can’t walk away from you, girl. My soul may burn in Hell for eternity, but I think it’ll be worth it. I don’t care if I do forfeit my soul, or my family. I’m not leaving your side tonight.”

“I don’t want you to sacrifice so much for me.”

“It’s my decision. Don’t get righteous on me now.”

“I care for your soul as well as your heart.” She frowned as he began to nuzzle her neck. “Ray, listen to me.” She gasped as his lips found a sensitive bruise. “We mustn’t,” she begged, even though she locked her arms around his head and held him tighter. “Darling, we mustn’t.”

“No, we mustn’t,” he agreed. Then his mouth found hers again, and they both lost all sense of time and decorum.


	11. Chapter 11

He left her early in the morning, before first light, and walked outside. The collie was ecstatic with the company as they wandered around the sleeping ranch. As the glow in the east lengthened into day, a gentle breeze arose and began sloughing across the prairie. It had a slight refreshing chill about it that spoke of the approaching autumn and the winter months that would follow. He could feel the chill in his bones. He was getting old, he realized.

Ray felt oddly contented in his journey. He was too weary for thought; he was moving on pure instinct. Thinking and regret would probably come later. Now, he was merely thankful for the blessings of the night.

When he returned to the bedroom, gray morning light filtered around the window shades and disclosed the girl dozing on her side of the bed. Ray gazed down at her, then brushed her dark hair aside and kissed her temple. Amy stirred, smiled in her sleep, stretched, but did not awaken.

Ray quickly shucked his clothes and slipped into bed facing her. His chilled body touched hers full length. Her eyes fluttered open in protest, then mellowed when she saw him smiling fondly at her. She snuggled against him to warm him.

“Oh, darlin,‘” he sighed and just relished the feel of all of her nakedness against him.

She smiled, more asleep than awake. Her eyes flicked over his face in wonder, then she closed those wondrous orbs and slipped back into sleep.

Ray ran his hand down her back, cupped her buttocks, and pulled her pelvis against him so she could feel his manhood pressed against her belly. He hoped she didn’t awaken and require servicing anytime in the very immediate future; he was much too exhausted to comply. As for now, he was contented to lie with her in his arms and not think of the future. How often in the last few weeks had he longed simply to touch her, and now to have the exquisite luxury of holding her for as long as he wanted was almost too much pleasure for his heart to comprehend. He fought his drowsiness and tried to concentrate on her face so that he could hold the moment for as long as he could, but even he knew that the beauty and the value of the moment was partly so precious because it would be so transitory and short-lived. Despite his struggles to stay awake, he slipped into a slumber so deep and so enveloping that it brought him utter peace and no dreams.

When he awoke the final time, he knew that day was fully upon them and could not be denied any longer. He gathered Amy tightly against him and hugged her body weakened by sleep. When he felt her muscles begin to tighten in response, he pulled back and gazed warmly into her half-opened eyes that were looking happily back into his. He gently kissed her lax lips and felt a hint of remembered passion in them.

“Hi,” he said softly and grinned like a trusting child.

She moved slightly in his arms, sighed, and returned his smile. “Hi,” she murmured back.

“I just had me the best night of my life, and I thank you for it.”

She arched her eyebrow. “You won’t get any complaints from me, either, cowboy.” She closed her eyes and smiled.

“You rest awhile longer,” he murmured and reached up to kiss her forehead. She lowered her head and her slow, even breaths blew against his exposed neck. He felt a stir of passion, but fought it down. They were both too exhausted to start the morning that way.

Amy felt the bed bounce as Ray got out of it and listened as he pulled on his clothes. He slipped out of the bedroom, and Amy fell into a deep, refreshing sleep. She awoke feeling fulfilled and satisfied. As she dressed, she wondered idly if she was falling in love with Ray. Wouldn’t that be something, she thought to herself as she padded across the living room floor. After all, we don’t have anything in common, except--

“Morning,” he greeted from the breakfast table. He looked sleepy and bleary-eyed and as comfortable and as worn as his dirty, old sheepskin lined winter coat hanging from the hook by the door. He also looked a little sheepish, and she suspected it was because of what had happened to them during the night, of the things they had done to each other, and of the mutual pleasure they had achieved. Otherwise, he seemed to be completely comfortable with her.

“Morning,” she murmured as she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down opposite him.

“You’re not a morning person, are you?”

She gazed at him with velvety, toasty eyes. “At least not this morning.”

She swore he blushed.

He looked around for some way to cover his embarrassment. “Aren’t you going to eat more breakfast than that coffee?”

“I don’t seem to have much appetite this morning for eggs. How about you?”

There was that blush again.

“Or are eggs about all you can handle this morning?” she asked with a teasing tone in her voice.

He grinned, too, more in thanksgiving than in mirth. “You got it, missy.” Then more softly, “You got it.”

She covered his hand with hers. “Boy, did I ever!” She laughed. “You never seemed like the blushing type.” Then softer as she squeezed his hand. “I think it’s sweet.”

He drew his hand back and gulped a swig of coffee. “We have to talk about what happened, Amy.”

“What happened, happened, Ray,” she said in a matter of fact voice. “We can’t undo it. Myself, I enjoyed it.” She walked to the stove and poured more coffee for herself. She offered Ray some and he held up his cup.

“I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy it., Amy I’m just wondering if it was right.”

She surprised him by sitting down in his lap. She looked into his eyes. “Right or wrong, we both wanted it to happen. We’d been working up to it for a long time.” She pulled her arms around his neck and snuggled against him. “And I’m not sorry, either.” She looked up. “Are you?”

He tightened his arms around her. “Sorry? Don’t ever think I’m sorry, girl. How could I be when I’m so damned grateful? I ain’t felt this contented in a long time. You’re made this old cowboy happy, darlin.’ I didn’t even realize that something like you was missing from my life until you showed me last night.” He gently rubbed her cheek with his callused thumb, and she leaned her face toward his hand. “I’m just wishing I knew more about you. I don’t mean your parents’ names or where you graduated from high school. I mean down deep inside, where you really live. But I’m thinking nobody will ever know the real you. You won’t let them.”

She raised her head. “What do you want to know, Ray?”

“If I can trust you, for starters. Will you bust this old cowboy’s heart all to pieces and just walk away?”

“For that to happen, there’d have to be a very significant relationship between us.”

“That’s my other question: Do we share more than mere lust?”

She massaged his neck with her hand. “We do share more. We’re friends.”

“I’m not talking about friendship, missy,” he said sternly.

“I know what you mean, Ray,” she answered softly. “But I don’t know what we share. I wish I knew the answer to that one. I feel a very special kinship with you. It’s something I never felt with Tommy. He’s fun, but he’s not you.”

“And that leads to my third question: What about Tommy? Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know, Ray. I’m enjoying the moment.” She ran her hand across his chest and dipped it inside his open-necked shirt. “And being with you. I love being with you. I love kissing you. I love having you kiss me. I love having you, well, you know.” Her eyes flicked up to his. “Ray.” She touched his face. “Do I have to beg?” She pulled his head down to hers.

He gathered her against him, gave her the kiss she wanted, and pushed her away to catch his breath. “Lord, girl, very much more of that, and I won’t care about nothing else! The cattle, the crops, the whole damn ranch can just all go to hell!”

She arched her eyebrow and grinned wickedly. “That’s the idea, cowboy.”

He grabbed her against him again. They’d unleashed a hunger that couldn’t be appeased, and neither one was much interested in anything beyond the moment.

He carried her back to his bedroom this time.

The forgotten coffee got so cold and stale that nobody would want to heat it up. Not even a hard gutted cowboy.

 

Later, much later, he took the pickup into town for grain. Amy stayed behind and cleaned up the crusty breakfast dishes. Or, at least she put them to soak. They’d been left much too long to be washed easily.

Amy put together a beefsteak and potato dinner for her man. He’d taught her to make red-eye gravy and peach cobbler. That, with some well-seasoned green beans and slaw would taste good when Ray finally returned from town. Neither one had eaten much breakfast. Now, they would have to concentrate on eating food. Lust can sustain willing participants only so long. The digestive system has to be maintained, too.

 

When Ray arrived, hot and dusty, in the kitchen at twelve-thirty, Amy ordered him to take a shower.

He grinned evilly. “Hell, you’re just wanting an excuse to see me naked. You’ll be in that shower with me. I won’t have a chance to get clean, unless you do it for me.”

“In your dreams! I don’t want this dinner to spoil.”

He grabbed her to him, smiled, and searched her face. “I can fix it so you’re just as hot and dusty as I am. Then you’ll HAVE to take a shower with me.”

“Don’t tempt me, cowboy. I’ll take you on wherever you say: shower, hay loft, mud hole, kitchen table. You name it. But right now, we have to eat and visit Tommy and see if Dwight can be discharged from the hospital.” She pushed against his chest. “Go on now. Go get cleaned up. What’s wrong with you, anyway? You’re supposed to be the practical one around here.”

He gave her a quick kiss. “I’m in lust and enjoying every minute of it.” He started to push through the living room door, then glanced back at her with a quizzical look. “A mud hole? Wouldn’t that be awfully dirty?”

She gave him a knowing look in return. “You wouldn’t even notice the dirt, cowboy. You can trust me on that much. And you’d never forget it, either. The memory would eat at your heart forever.”

His eyes held a look of caution as if he were having second thoughts. “Maybe we’re getting into something we should leave alone. We might not be able to handle it.”

“I hope we can’t. I hope it overwhelms us so much we can’t ever be free of it. We deserve something for ourselves, Ray. We deserve whatever happiness we can find, whether it’s in a double bed or a slimy mud hole.”

He laughed with the sheer enormity of what she suggested could be, and then his face sobered. “Thank you, Amy. If it never goes any further than this day, I’ll bless you for what we’ve had.” And then the door closed on him.

 

Amy and Ray walked hand-in-hand into Tommy’s hospital room. Tommy was sitting up, his broken arm held securely around his neck.

Tommy grinned broadly. “Amy! Ray! Great to see you guys getting along so well! Holding hands! That‘s great!”

They self-consciously dropped their hands.

Amy walked to the side of Tommy’s bed, leaned over, and kissed Tommy’s brow. “How are you feeling, Tommy?”

His big grin flashed again. “Great! Now that you’re here.” He looked at Ray. “Isn’t she something, Ray?”

“Yeah. Something,” Ray mumbled.

“Good ol’ Uncle Ray,” Tommy said to Amy. “Nothing will ever sweeten him.”

Amy glanced at Ray. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Ray turned away.

“You just have to find the right sweetener, Tommy,” she said.

“That’ll be the day! He was born suspicious. It keeps him from getting hurt, though.”

“Perhaps, Tommy,” Amy said, rubbing his good hand, but watching Ray’s back. “It’s generally what we love the most that hurts us the most. Suspicion, nor anything else can protect us from that hurt. Only more love.”

Ray turned to face them. “When do you get out of here, Tommy?”

“I haven’t heard yet. But a lot of it depends on Amy.”

She smiled softly. “Me? How’s that?”

‘Why, I’m going to get better so much faster after you set our wedding date.”

Amy’s hand froze over his. “What?”

Tommy grinned. “Come on, Amy. I fought for my ladylove last night. I might not have made much of a showing, but my whole heart was in it.”

“Tommy--”

“I love you, Amy. I never thought it’d be like this. I thought we were just out to have a good time, but now I want something permanent for us. Is that so bad?”

“No, Tommy, it isn’t. We’ll have to talk about it later.”

“When we’re alone? Two of the people I love most in the world are right here in this room with me. I knew you wouldn’t mind if I asked you when Ray was here.”

“No, Tommy,” she mumbled. “I don’t mind at all. We’re your family. And your Uncle Dwight.” She took Tommy’s hand, but glanced up at Ray’s intense face. “I’ll think about it.”

Tommy frowned. “But, what’s to think about? We love each other. Even if you don’t love me the way you think you should, I love you enough for both of us.”

“I know, Tommy. And you’re a wonderful person. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”

“Then, why--”

She smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t rush a girl into these things, Tommy. It’s a decision that’ll affect the rest of our lives.”

He slowly nodded his head. “You’re right.”

“Now, get some rest. You’ve had enough excitement for awhile.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

 

“I don’t want you to hurt that boy!” Ray bellowed as he crashed around the hospital corridor.

“I don’t want to hurt us, either, Ray.”

He stopped pacing and stared wildly at her. “There can’t be any ‘us.’ Not anymore. We can’t hurt Tommy!”

“At our own expense?”

“Does it matter? Does it really matter which cowboy you have?”

As his meaning soaked into her senses, she felt the urge to slap him. But she also knew that his words had hurt him, too. He’d been right. Punishment is never one-sided. Nevertheless, something vital went out of her.

“No, Ray, I guess it doesn’t.”

“Come on,” he said, taking her arm. “Let’s get out of here. I better get the future ‘bride’ home.”

She put her hand on his arm and stopped him. “Please, Ray, I know what has to be done. But, please, don’t make it any harder on me than it has to be. Otherwise, I just can’t take it.”

He stared at her, then slowly nodded his head. He suddenly looked tired. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Amy, but I just can’t be happy about this.”

“How do you think I feel? Two proposals in one day.”

“I didn’t propose! Well, at least not marriage. Not the other thing, either. I don’t know what I was meaning. It was pure feeling; it didn’t have much sense behind it. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Whatever it was, I was thinking it, too.”

“God, girl.” He squeezed her shoulders and frowned. “This is as far as this thing goes with us.”

“But--”

“I won’t hurt Tommy. And I won’t let you hurt him, either. Now, come on. Let’s go.” 

She let him lead her out of the hospital.

They had driven a block away before they realized that they’d forgotten to check on Dwight.

 

Dwight limped into the kitchen and grinned. “I see you fixed up a day bed here in the kitchen. I’ll like that. Thanks, Amy.”

“Ray did it,” she mumbled.

Dwight stared at Ray. “Why, thank you, Ray. That was considerate of you.”

“It was the least I could do,” Ray mumbled back. 

Dwight looked from one to the other of the glum people who’d brought him home from the hospital. Barely five words had passed between them on the trip, and he had started to wonder if he’d done something wrong to make them angry.

“What does a fellow have to do around here to get a cup of coffee?”

Ray and Amy awoke as if someone had slapped them. Amy ran to the stove to reheat the coffee, and Ray pulled a chair out for Dwight.

Dwight let out his breath. At least they weren’t angry with him.

 

Later that night, as Ray and Amy lay awake in their own beds and knew that the other one did, too, they knew that the gulf that had opened up between them was deeper than it had ever been. For it was built on their mutual regard for Tommy and the honor they held in their hearts for him.

Amy lay, dry eyed, and wished the tears would come. But there are some situations in which tears do not help, and this was one of them.

 

Ray and Dwight went riding out that morning and enjoyed each other’s company. That hadn’t happened for a long time, and the companionship was delighting both of them. If the brawl and subsequent injuries did nothing else, it had brought the two brothers closer together.

“Tommy’s sure planning this wedding,” Dwight said.

Ray grunted a monosyllable.

“I’m going to give the bride away. What are you doing?”

“I’m best man,” Ray mumbled, but he didn’t seem very enthusiastic.

“I know this changes a whole lot for you, Ray, but Tommy said he’s willing to take the house on the Simmons’ place. He doesn’t want to run you out of your home, but the kids deserve their privacy. I know they didn’t have it or even want it before, but this will be different. This will be official.”

“I know.”

“Then, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting like there’ll be a funeral in the family, instead of a wedding.”

They had ridden to the top of a knoll, and Ray was saved from answering as they gazed at the scene that had opened up before them. They sat looking out in appreciation across the river valley that stretched before them.

“Won’t be too long now before the snows will start up in the mountains,” Dwight said. “Anytime now after the first of September we can expect to hear about the first snowfall.”

Ray grunted in agreement. His horse snorted and stamped his foot as if to agree, too.

Dwight got a faraway look in his eyes. “I always love September when the aspens turn golden. I just may have to spend some time up in the mountains this fall.”

Ray smirked. “I wondered when you’d start to get itchy feet.”

Dwight returned the smirk. “You know me, a rolling stone.”

“All I ask is that you’re back in time for the wedding in October.”

“Why are they going through a big wedding with a white gown and all when everyone knows the feat’s already been done?”

“How the hell should I know?!” Ray answered. “Who can explain why anybody does what they do nowadays.” He straightened in the saddle and narrowed his eyes. “What the hell?! Do you see what I see?”

Dwight followed his pointing finger. At the bottom of the rise ran a stream crowded with willows on both sides. A naked woman stood ankle deep in the rushing water and appeared to be bathing. As the men watched, she leaned over to scoop water into her hands, then straightened and threw the icy liquid upon her upper body. 

Even at the distance she was from them, the men recognized Amy. And she was butt naked.

“Who in the hell does she think she supposed to be?!”

Dwight grinned. “September Morn, I believe.”

Ray glanced at him. “Huh?”

“It’s a famous painting.”

“Well, I don’t care what it is. She’s going to freeze her ass off down there. Or some cowboy will come along and warm her up good and proper.”

Dwight wondered if that hadn’t been Amy’s plan, and that Ray was supposed to be the cowboy. She knew Ray was headed this way this morning.

Dwight wanted to see what Ray was really feeling about her. He grinned in appreciation. “Would you look at her? Boy! That Tommy can sure pick them.”

“You shouldn’t be looking at her!”

Dwight frowned. “That’s what’s wrong, isn’t it? You did fall for her, didn’t you? I was right at the dance. I’d just forgotten in all the excitement that followed. But you didn’t deny it then, and I can see that you can’t deny it now. What are you going to do about it?”

Ray looked old. “Nothing.”

“How does Amy feel? Which one of you does she really want?”

“I don’t think either one.”

“What?”

“She says she doesn’t know how to love.”

“That’s horse pucky! She has a lot of love in her for all of us!”

“She can’t see it. Or trust it.”

“Are you going to stop the marriage?”

“I can’t hurt Tommy. Neither can she.”

“But she can’t marry him if she doesn’t love him the way she should.”

“I know that. She knows that.”

“And she’d still go through with it?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s tearing her up as much as it is me.”

“God, Ray, you’ve got to get this straightened out. If you two love each other--”

“I don’t know what we feel. It might only be shared lust.”

“Not the way you two are aching.”

Ray nodded toward Amy. “You better ride on down there and tell her to get the hell home. Me, I’ve got work to do.” Without another glance at Amy, Ray took off at a gallop. Maybe he’d figured out Amy’s plan, too, and didn’t trust himself with her.


	12. Chapter 12

Amy was walking up the bank toward her clothes when the snort of a horse stopped her. Her head shot up. Dwight sat on his horse, leaning down out of the saddle. A big grin was plastered across his face.

Amy self-consciously grabbed at the neck of her terry robe. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to know you had to pull the left sleeve back out of that robe to get it put on. It was quite a show from up on the knoll.”

Amy blushed and the color contrasted nicely with the white towel on her head.

“You better get dressed and get on home before some obliging cowpoke comes along and decides that he wants to poke something more than cows.”

Amy blushed again and headed for the willows.

“It’s not going to work, you know,” Dwight said. He and his horse had fallen into step behind Amy.

She chose to ignore Dwight.

“Ray was up on the knoll, too. He saw your little performance. But he rode off.”

She stopped and glared back at Dwight.

“Give it up, Amy. You aren’t going to get Ray’s attention that obvious way. I don’t know exactly what went on between you two the night Tommy and I spent in the hospital, but I can imagine.”

“A lot you know!”

“I’m not criticizing either one of you. I want you both to come clean with Tommy and see what happens then. It’d be a lot more honest.”

“We. Can’t.”

“I know, darlin’,” he said softly. “And I feel so sorry for both of you. I’ll be here if you ever want to talk. I’m still your friend.”

“Later. At the house. We can talk then.” She breathed deeply. “I need to talk.”

“And you need to get dressed. I’ll ride a little ways up the trail and watch so you get started safely home.”

Tears filled her eyes. “God, Dwight, why didn’t I fall for you?”

“And have Ray pissed off at me again? I can’t do that twice to him, darlin’. And I could. Real easy. You’re special.”

She studied him. “Thanks, Dwight. You’re special, too. But this is all getting to be too much for me. Everybody’s pulling at me, wanting me to do this, not wanting me to do that. One wanting one thing, one another. What’s a girl to do? I, I’m beginning to wonder if I know what I want, anymore.” She sobbed, turned, and ran for the thicket.

“Amy? Amy! Damn it, girl! I didn’t mean to upset you. Amy? Ah, shit!”

He kicked his horse and followed Amy into the thicket.

 

Dwight moved slowly around the kitchen, supposedly helping to prepare supper but also trying to begin a conversation with Amy who seemed to be moving in a dreamlike state, too.

“Are you sorry, girl?” he said at last.

“Me?” She smiled wistfully at him. “I guess what happened out there this afternoon was a sign of friendship. I wanted someone to like me for me.”

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you or Ray for the world, Amy.”

“I know. Please don’t regret what I feel was simply an expression of concern from a friend. I needed reassurance, and you were there for me.”

Dwight breathed heavily as if ridding himself of his guilt. “So, what’s the story with you and Ray?” 

Amy shrugged her shoulders. “Not much. He’s Mr. Rock of Gibraltar.”

“He can be a hard ass. Does Tommy suspect what’s going on?”

“You saw Tommy. He’d trust Hitler.”

“I thought you said there wasn’t much between you and Ray. What I’m seeing from him is something else.”

“And he hates himself for it.”

“Yeah. That sounds like my hard ass brother.” 

“He doesn’t want to hurt Tommy. That’s why he’s staying away from me.”

Dwight frowned. “And did you ever consider he’s trying to control himself so he won’t be hurt by love again? Me and my stupid flirting! But Ginny didn’t have to go along with it.”

“No, she didn’t. She just didn’t love Ray as much as she thought she did.”

“What about you? How much do you love Ray?”

Amy frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can call it love. It’s more of a grand passion. Or lust.” She looked up quickly. “It isn’t Ray’s fault. He’s very tender hearted and open. In a way, I feel sorry for him because I know I’ll hurt him, too. I just don’t know how to love.”

Dwight frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. I thought that was standard equipment with women, like, ah, other things are.”

“So, now you know. I hope Ray thinks that all he’s feeling is lust. If that’s the case, maybe it’d be better for him if he kept on thinking that way.”

“That might be kinder to him,” he said slowly. “But we both know that isn’t true, don’t we?” He saw her purse her lips. “What are you going to do about all this mess, Amy?”

“I don’t know. But it’s wonderful to be able to talk about it.”

“I’m your friend, darlin’. No matter what, I’ll try to be here for you.”

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “Thank you for that.”

Ray chose that moment to walk in the door. He thought they were holding hands. “Sorry to interrupt,” he muttered.

Amy dropped Dwight’s hand. “Ray--”

“I don’t want to hear anything from your lying lips!”

Amy shook her head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you two this afternoon! I double-backed! I went back to the river where you were. I thought maybe, just maybe, there was some hope, that we could go to Tommy together and work things out. But then I saw you.” He turned and glared at Dwight. “And you! You with your white butt shining in the sun, pumping away at her like there was no tomorrow! Going at it, for God and man and the coyotes to see! I could’ve killed both of you, but I decided it wasn’t worth it.”

“Ray, it wasn’t what it looked like--” Amy started.

“What the hell was it, then?! He was screwing you! What else could it have been?! I know I’m nothing but a dumb cowboy, missy, but I sure as hell know what screwing looks like! And you were doing it! You and this, this, this brother of mine!”

Dwight stepped forward. “Ray, you have to understand. I was just comforting her.”

Ray glared at him. “Yeah. That’s what I’ve done to her, too. It was real comforting to both of us.”

Amy stepped forward. “Ray, no. This afternoon was different.”

“I know! You were screwing in the hot sun! At least I had the decency to do it in the darkness. Why was that?” he demanded of her. “Did you want to hide what we did? Were you ashamed of what you felt for me?”

“Oh, Ray, no,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to share it with anyone else.”

“I bet!” He turned away in disgust.

“This afternoon, she was upset by the way you’d been treating her,” Dwight explained. “Just like you are now.”

“How did I get to be the bad guy in all this?! Was I screwing your girl?! And you, you bitch! You bitch.” The tears in his voice and his eyes reflected the great pain he was feeling. “I only hope I can learn to hate you! I made a helluva good start this afternoon.”

She reached out her hand. “Ray. Please.”

But Ray pushed past her outstretched hand and disappeared again. “See?” she said to Dwight who shrugged in sympathy.

 

“How you doing?” Dwight asked Amy one morning.

“Not so good. I know I should act more cheerful. I’m a drag to everybody.”

“You’ve got a good reason, girl. You’ve got a lot on your mind. You can’t marry Tommy when you’ve got Ray on your mind. You’ll have to break this up with Tommy.”

“And have two of them hating me? And what would Tommy think of Ray?”

“But it’s taking a toll on your sanity. You need a change, Amy,” Dwight decided. “Why don’t you and Tommy ride into Morley with me?”

“Don’t you mean Harmony?” she asked, trying to hide her listlessness.

“No, Morley.”

She showed a little interest. “Not just the feed store in Harmony?”

“No. Morley has stuff like a real supermarket and a theater that shows movies on the weekends. Ladies can even get beauty shop appointments there.”

“Okay!”

When the pickup left later that morning, Amy was showing more life than the Nolans had seen in her for several days. They were driving not to just the little crossroads where they picked up a few supplies occasionally, but a real town! Amy, who’d lived in one of the most exciting cities in the world for several years when she’d been in Los Angeles, was agog with excitement over this former rail head.

Morley wasn’t that much of a town, but it sported a stop light and had an honest-to-gosh traffic problem. There was even a dry goods store displaying in the window dresses that were only three years old.

Amy couldn’t get her fill of the town as the three of them bounced down the single main street in Dwight’s old pickup. She’d forgotten how exciting seeing different people could be.

She stopped at a drug store with a soda fountain in it. She insisted they stop and go in. Unbelievable! It was like walking into a fifties movie set. With a shining smile, she walked up and down the aisles like a fascinated youngster. Clerks and customers stared at her, but she didn’t mind. She was walking back into history in the quaint building.

“Oh, look!” She swooped down on a magazine stand and seized a confession magazine. “I haven’t seen one of these for years! And look! PEOPLE! I love PEOPLE!” She began to flick eagerly through the magazine. “Wonder what the latest dirt is in Hollywood?”

“Why don’t you just buy the damned thing so we can get out of here?” Dwight mumbled. “I get nervous around all this ice cream. I’m more comfortable around beer.” 

“Sure. Sorry, I’ll just--” She froze as the fluttering pages stopped on a story about her. Or rather on a story about Bambi Love and her strange disappearance.

“W-What?”

“You okay?” Dwight asked with a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong, Amy?” Tommy asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Amy? Who the hell was Amy? Oh, yeah, that’s the name she’d given Tommy.

“Here, sit down for a minute.” Dwight propelled her to a booth.

“You guys have errands to run.”

“That can wait. You rest.” He watched her staring at the magazine article. “Something in there upset you?”

She couldn’t lie when something so obviously had. She pointed at the article on Bambi Love.

“I knew this girl, in LA. She was a backup singer in a rock band. It says here that she’s disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Her abandoned car and bloody clothes have been found near Las Vegas. Even her makeup case was found full of makeup. One of the other backup singers says that Bambi would never go anywhere without her makeup. But the police aren’t the only ones looking for her. Seems the guy singing lead for the group recorded a song about her, and now the whole country’s looking for her.”

“That must be some song.” Tommy was looking at the individual record player at their booth. “I bet this is it. BAMBI CRY AGAIN, by the Report Card : Two Bs and a C.”

“That’s the group,” Amy said.

Tommy fed a quarter in the slot of the record player, and Brad’s voice began to throb in the drug store.

“Bambi, don’t you cry for me  
If you’re all alone.  
I didn’t mean to hurt you, girl;  
Your darlin’s coming home.

Bambi, once I sang those words--  
You waited patiently.  
Now you’re the one who’s lost and gone.  
I need you back with me.

Bambi, don’t you make me cry.  
Why should we be apart?  
But if you choose to not return,  
Your love’s inside my heart.

Bambi, don’t you make me cry,  
Why did we ever part?  
And if you’re dead and can’t return,  
You’ll stay my own sweetheart.”

Oh, no! Amy thought. What a terrible song! But people would love it. A mysterious disappearance, a grieving lover. All true romantics would be eating it up.

Amy felt ill. The saccharine lyrics choked her. Part of her wanted to go back to Brad, part of her remembered the manager’s threat, part of her wanted to smash all those insipid records and hide here forever in Montana, part of her wanted to escape!

Tommy was looking at the magazine article. “It says here that someone thought they saw her in Yellowstone two months. Golly, Amy, that’s about the time we were there! We might’ve seen her and didn’t know it!”

If she’d been spotted in Yellowstone, it wouldn’t be long before someone around here realized who she was. She’d have to leave!

Her eyes must’ve showed her wildness, because Ray looked at Tommy and said, “We’d better be getting on home now.”

But Amy wouldn’t hear of it. “We just got to town. Look, I’m sorry I got upset. It’s just a story.”

“But if she was your friend--”

“She was just an acquaintance. I’d nearly forgotten about her. L.A. and Montana are a lot further apart than distance. Bambi Love is from another lifetime.”

“Up here, friends stick together, no matter what. If you’re upset about your friend’s disappearance, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She pursed her lips and glared at him, but finally nodded her head. “Thank you for understanding,” she mumbled. “There was a time when we were quite close.” She frowned. “But that’s all over.” She looked up with a bright smile on her face. “Let’s get on with our lives, all right?”

“However you want it, Amy. Tommy, let’s get over to the hardware store.”

“Dwight, I--” How could she make herself look less callous without telling her secret? “I, thank you.”

“It’s hard to be brave when you’re upset.”

She nodded. She let them think that and tried to regain the holiday mood, but twice that day she heard Brad’s song playing on the radio. Once she saw Brad’s picture on the cover of a ladies’ magazine. 

She’d forgotten how good looking he was. 

She’d forgotten how much she had thought of him.

She needed to forget about Brad and that other life. This town, this outside world, had brought it all thundering back.

Leaving Morley proved to be a relief.

 

The ranch gave her little peace, though. Tommy didn’t seem to notice, but Dwight would give her odd looks as if he knew something was bothering her.

The ranch was no longer the refuge it had once been. Bambi Love had managed to find Amy even here, so she knew that she had to leave.

Amy gritted her teeth and weathered the seething situation as long as she could. Tommy was ecstatic with wedding plans, Ray and his martyred face avoided her, and Dwight watched her in pity and solicitude. 

Then one warm afternoon as Amy perched on the step of the front porch to catch a little breeze, Ray walked up and sprawled in his rocking chair. Moments passed as they sat in silence. She knew he had deliberately sought her out. She wanted to leave the porch to avoid more of his recriminations, but she was powerless to move. 

But he wasn’t there to berate her. “It’s no good,” he said softly. “I’ve tried. I’ve really tried, but I can’t hate you.”

She turned and studied him. “I feel sorry for you then.”

His eyes flicked at her, and she could see his pain. “God, girl,” he whispered in anguish. “What am I going to do? How can I change?”

“It isn’t you, Ray. You’re a good man. I’m not your general, run of the mill girl. My ideas are different. Don’t worry about yourself. It’s me. You’re doing everything right.”

“Even down to what I’m feeling? What am I going to do about that?”

She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it and shook her head.

They both sat for a long time, staring out across the prairie and suffering in their own private hells. Even being together in their pain gave neither one of them any relief.

 

It was time to go. Ray was softening and would begin to compromise his values for her. They could be together for awhile, and then he would begin to hate her, and himself, for what he had done. She had to protect him from himself. This time, she had to be the strong one.

She packed her bag. It didn’t take long. She was traveling the way she’d learned to do: light. What took awhile were the notes she had to write.

 

Dear Tommy, 

Everything is happening too fast for me, and I have to get away. Please don’t search for me. It’s best that I just disappear. I enjoyed our time together, but I can’t settle down. Not now. I’m a rolling stone, and I have to find myself before I can be much good to anyone else, let alone myself. Find yourself another girl who’s ready to share your life. You are a wonderful person and will give the right woman an enduring love. I’m sorry that I’m just not that person. Watch out for Ray. He’s not as indestructible as he thinks he is. Help him and Dwight become friends.

Amy

 

Dear Ray,

Thank you for being a good friend. My future lies elsewhere, but I will always remember you and your family. You taught me a lot and I’m glad I got to know you. Be kind to Tommy. He’s grown up, but not yet a man. In many ways, he’s still a child. Perhaps those are the qualities I first admired in him. Perhaps, in many ways, I’ll never grow up myself. Be kind to each other. Dwight is a special blessing to you. I only hope you will eventually realize it. Be kind to your memory of me. We shared part of our lives together, and I, for one, will never forget that. In my own way, I loved all of you very much.

Missy

PS I’ll leave the pickup in Morley and take the bus out of town. After that, there’ll be no further trace of me. Goodbye, my loves.

 

She’d signed ‘Missy’ on her note to Ray. Tommy would take it as the innocent nickname his uncle had given Amy and would interpret it as only friendly warmth for Ray in the note. When she wrote it, Amy didn’t know herself if she meant ‘sweetheart’ or simply ‘missy.’ Ray wouldn’t know, either, and she was wrangled enough at him to let him wonder forever about her meaning.

The last note was to Dwight.

Dear Dwight,

What can I say? You are my friend. I felt a special kinship with you that I’ve felt with very few people. In many ways, the Nolans are the only real family I’ve ever known. And I’ll always have a warm feeling knowing that the Nolans are somewhere in the world. Please remember me with kindness and tolerance. Be good to yourself and to each other.

I love you, my special friend.

Amy

 

As promised, Amy left Ray’s pickup in Morley, caught the bus, and headed east. Through the Dakotas, down across Iowa, and into the Midwest she traveled, seeing country she’d never seen before. Sure, Bambi Love had been here on concerts, but the glare of stage lights doesn’t allow much on the other side of them to be seen. Barbara rambled, staying a few days in a town, then hearing that insipid song that was turning Brad’s career into a success. Then she was fleeing again, ever eastward.

Barbara toured Lincoln’s home in Springfield, but couldn’t feel comfortable on those flat plains in Illinois. Perhaps they reminded her of other flat plains, further west. It was the first she’d missed Dwight and Ray and Tommy. And, she had to admit, it was Ray she’d thought of first. There’d been a companionship with him that’d been lacking with Tommy.

The land began to rise in eastern Ohio into the foothills of the Appalachians, and Barbara felt better by leaving the plains behind her.

In central Pennsylvania, Barbara remembered that her mother’s aunt lived in a small college town nearby. Maybe roots, however slight, would anchor her. Besides her funds, still plentiful, would eventually falter. At last she was thinking of her future and not just drifting.

Rose Peabody lived in a big, old, two-story house on a tree-lined street about five blocks from the college campus. Rose herself was a small, fey, twittery creature who looked perplexed when Barbara introduced herself, but invited her great niece inside her rambling Victorian home that looked too big for Rose.

Barbara got a few brief glances of heavy furniture and faded grandeur in the rooms downstairs before she was ushered upstairs to a bedroom she could use. Aunt Rose maintained a steady flow of conversation about Barbara’s parents and her own community projects and the lovely garden in the backyard and so many, many other things. Barbara felt very much at home and began to relax.

“Oh, I’m sorry to yawn, Aunt Rose.”

“But, my dear, there’s a reason. How tired you look. You must be exhausted. The bathroom’s at the end of the hall. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. Until then, goodnight. And it’s so nice to have you here, my dear.”

Even after Rose shut the door, Barbara’s ears rang with the high-pitched voice. But she didn’t care. She slipped between the cool sheets and sighed. 

She was home.


	13. Chapter 13

Barbara fell quickly into a new routine in her aunt's home in the small college town in Pennsylvania and reinvented herself again. She missed the ranch and the life she had been living with the Nolan family, just as she had missed her California self when she had abruptly left it. But she was a chameleon. This was already the fourth identity she had assumed, and she was only in her early twenties. How many more names and people would she have to become before she was content?

Of course, she had always been Barbara Crider during the first eighteen years of her life. That identity hadn't changed, and neither had the boredom and invisibility of her childhood and teen years. She had been that person for so long, and it didn't seem that long ago that Barbara was calling another place home. It took nothing at all for her to call up that memory. A slamming locker door would do it.

“Two months, Barbara!”

Barbara Crider slammed shut her locker door and turned with a grin. “That’s right, Candy. Two months until we graduate from high school. Are you still going to Brown?”

Candy clutched her armful of books. Her eyes were glowing. “I can’t wait to get started! Isn’t it wonderful?! We’re going out into the world, Barbara. It’s kind of daring, isn’t it? And kind of spooky all at once. Do you know what I mean?” she asked with a shiver of expectation.

“Yes, I know.”

Both girls giggled with fear and excitement. Their adventure into Life was about to start, and they both knew it. It was time to see the world! It was their time. Period!

“I have to run now, Candy. See you.”

Barbara hurried down the hallway. Her eyes were as bright as Candy’s. To be a graduating senior in Bristol, Rhode Island, was to have the world by the tail that year. Of course, each crop of graduating seniors felt the same way. But Barbara’s class was special. They were going to become famous doctors, lawyers, educators, politicians, writers, journalists, and a dozen other professions that glimmered in their futures. But Barbara’s dream was special among all the self-professed saviors in her class. She possessed a lovely voice and would someday become a world-famous singer. Her classmates would tell their children that they had gone to school with Barbara Crider. She just had to go out and get the fame that was waiting for her.

Of course there was Mother. Barbara pursed her lips. Mother had pleaded with her to attend college, but Barbara was firm. Hollywood was waiting with bated breath for her appearance.

“You are late to class, Barbara.”

Barbara came out of her reverie. “Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Fletcher, I--” she apologized to her Senior Lit teacher.

“Never mind. You are to go the office. There’s a message for you down there.”

The eyes of the Vice-Principal were soft and sympathetic as Barbara entered her office. “Come in and sit down, Barbara.” She watched as Barbara settled in the indicated arm chair. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, Miss Wallace.” Barbara was frightened by the woman’s kindness. Barbara wasn‘t here for disciplinarian action. “I-Is something wrong?”

“Something very bad has happened at your home, Barbara. Your mother suffered a stroke today.”

Barbara gasped as she grabbed the arms of the chair. “Oh--”

“I’m afraid that it was a massive stroke.”

Barbara pushed out of the chair. “I have to get to her--”

“Barbara, sit down. Please. I’m sorry to have to tell you this.” The woman frowned under the weight of her message. “Your mother didn’t make it to the hospital, my dear. She died in the ambulance.”

Barbara could not breath for the enormity of what she was hearing. “My mother is, is--”

“I am sorry, Barbara. I’ve called a taxi and I’ll take you home. I’ll stay with you until your family arrives.”

Barbara allowed herself to be led away. Relatives finally appeared at the Crider house, and Miss Wallace left. But the relatives were distant cousins of her parents and gave her little comfort. They were little more than names that her had barely heard her parents discuss.

Mrs. Crider was laid to rest beside her husband who’d died three years before in the winter. Barbara bit back tears as she looked down at the two impersonal graves. Wind whipped strands of her dark hair across her face. She was trying to remember her parents and wasn’t having much luck.

The Criders were old when Barbara came along. She was a change-of-life baby and the only child the Criders raised. There’d been two baby boys years earlier who had died as infants. The Criders had given up on parenthood, and then Barbara had dropped into their lives. Dropped was an apt description of what had happened, because these two middle-aged people quickly speeding into old age were completely baffled with the task of raising a child. Some acquaintances thought that they had taken in a grandchild.

Barbara was cheated out of a happy childhood by living with these aging people. They provided her with a clean and comfortable home, but they couldn’t do any of the fun things with her that other, younger parents did with their children. They couldn’t take her skiing or camping or swimming or even hiking. But she did belong to Girl Scouts, took piano lessons, and had plenty of friends with parents who were young. One place her parents did take her was to the beach, and Barbara acquired a lifelong love of the ocean.

But her parents were not loving toward her. Not that they hated her, they just couldn’t express the deep caring that surely a normal parent should show an offspring.  
Because of that, Barbara did not learn how to develop tender feelings. She watched other families and realized that something vital was missing in her life and longed for the ability to share love that seemed to come so easily to other people. She could not remember being kissed or cuddled by her parents and thought that it was their age that made them undemonstrative.

But the main problem with having older parents is losing them when a child is still young. And that’s how Barbara found herself two months before her high school graduation: alone and without prospects. But the young are ever optimistic. She turned her back on her parents’ graves and left her childhood forever. Her future awaited her in California.

“As your family banker, Barbara, I cannot permit you to do anything hastily. I know that your mother wanted you to attend college. You must complete your education and prepare yourself for a career. You must think of your future.”

“I am, Mr. Baker.” She tried to keep her voice under control. She knew that anger from her would only help him. “I want to enroll in the University of California at Los Angeles and work part-time to support myself. I’ll have the money from the sale of my parents’ home on interest in a bank out there and will only use it if necessary. If I work part-time, as I plan to do, then I won’t take a full class load at UCLA. And I’ll have time to pursue other interests, too.”

Baker furrowed his brow and tapped his pencil on the edge of the desk. “Hmm. Sounds like you’ve thought this all out.”

“Yes, I have, Mr. Baker. After all, it is my life.”

“A guardian could still be appointed for you until you are twenty-one.”

Barbara’s heart sank.

“And there’s some very good schools right here in Rhode Island that you could attend.”

That was true. But Rhode Island didn‘t have Hollywood!

“Please, Mr. Baker. I have my heart set on UCLA. Why force me to attend some college I’m not interested in? I’d hate it and flunk out. Then all of that time and money would be wasted.”

Baker gave his pencil a final tap. He hated to waste time and money, for whatever reason. And he remembered his own daughter’s fiasco in college several years before. “You’re right, Barbara. It is your life. You’ve got a sensible head on your shoulders, and you’re no longer a child. Besides, you’ll never learn if you’re not allowed to make a few mistakes. After you’ve done that, you’ll appreciate whatever you do gain from life. You might not understand all that I’m saying right now, but you will in a few years. Time and experience can only give you wisdom. And you have to learn those lessons for yourself.” 

Barbara let her breath out noisily and shook his hand vigorously. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Baker. I do appreciate all of your help. And your concern. But I‘ll be alright. Really, I will. I just want my chance at the world.”

He gave her a fatherly smile. “Of course, you do. And, hard to believe, I was young once myself and wanting to see what I could do in the world.” He sighed and thought about his college drop-out daughter working as a receptionist in a company where she could’ve been an executive by now if she’d graduated from college. But she seemed happy with her life, and wasn’t that what really counted?

“At least, you have dreams, Barbara. And I wish you luck with yours.” 

Sensing victory, Barbara leaped to her feet and extended her hand. “Thank you, Mr. Baker.”

“Keep in touch, Barbara,” he said as he shook her hand. “I’d like to know how you’re getting along in California. I’m not speaking as a banker now, but as your friend.”

“Oh, you’ll know how I’m getting along, Mr. Baker. I’m sure of that.” Her name would be on marquees in Las Vegas and listed as the star of movie musicals. Mr. Baker would know all about her fame and sparkling life, and he’d marvel that he had once known her. All of the people in Bristol, Rhode Island, would someday search their memories in hopes that they could claim that they had once known Barbara Crider.

With stars in her eyes Barbara liquidated her past, threw some clothes in a suitcase, and flew to California....

...only to find that every other person she met in Los Angeles had just graduated from high school and was hunting for a dazzling career in show business, too.

Barbara was luckier than most. She had a healthy bank account from her mother’s estate, so she could afford to live in L.A. until her big break came.

Her luck held and she got work as a temporary secretary. How fortunate she’d always done well with business courses in school. It was security to know she could work in an office if her musical career never came to pass. But it would!

True to her word, she enrolled at UCLA. But she fudged and took only correspondence courses. Three hours of political science and three hours of English grammar from the list of Freshman courses would enrich her. But at the rate of six hours a semester, it would take her ten years to graduate. But she didn’t worry about that prospect. She was young. Time was on her side. 

In the meanwhile, she was actually in California! She could stay here until her break came. And come, it would. She was certain of that!

She was officially on her way into show business!

 

Barbara often ate her lunch at a public park where she could watch people and feed the pigeons. Certain faces became familiar and she felt at ease with those people.

“Hello, I see you around here a lot.”

Barbara looked at the woman and wondered if she should answer. After all, this was the city. But the woman was taking a chance by talking to Barbara, too.

“Yes. I’m a temporary secretary and I work around here a lot.”

The woman relaxed. She was tall, big-boned, and had coarse facial features. Her shoulder length blonde hair looked dry and brittle, and heavy silver hoops dangled from her ears. Deep red lipstick slashed across her mouth, and powder clogged her pores. Barbara couldn’t see what the rest of her looked like because she was wearing a belted raincoat. There was nothing dainty about the woman, though.

But when the woman smiled, she looked like someone Barbara would like to have for a friend. “I thought perhaps you did. My husband owns a little shop over in that building.” She nodded over her shoulder. “He says I shouldn’t speak to strangers, and I say how else are you going to meet someone nice if you don’t speak up?”

Barbara grinned. She knew she should turn aside, but some hunger for friendship made her stay. She didn‘t even have acquaintances, even after weeks in the city. “That’s right.”

“Let’s go over to that cafe and grab a cup of coffee. If you feel threatened by me at any time, you can get up and leave. No one will bother you in a public place, though.”

“You’re taking a chance, too. I might be a dangerous fanatic.”

The woman looked her up and down with a critical eye. “I don’t think so.” 

And they both laughed.

They sat a table with a red-checkered tablecloth and ordered coffee.

“God, I hate this kind of place,” the woman confided. “Too much atmosphere. Give me coffee out of a vending machine anytime.”

“This place has chairs, though.” Barbara didn’t know whether to be amused by a genuine character or bored by someone full of herself. On closer inspection, this woman was a little too odd for Barbara’s tastes. But Barbara felt committed to the coffee conversation now.

“That’s true.” The woman took a puff on her cigarette. “My name’s Claudia. I’m a recovering alcoholic, my husband is having an affair with a young Polynesian dancer half my age at a South Seas restaurant, and my neurotic standard poodle gets stinko on the gin that I can‘t drink anymore. What’s your story?”

Barbara allowed her eyes to sparkle. The woman was very good with hyperbole and was maybe a genuine character, after all. “Not as interesting as yours, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Do you really leave cream out of your coffee? Ugh!”

“My name’s Barbara. I recently graduated from high school, I’m a singer, and I came to Hollywood to become famous.”

“Of course, you did,“ Claudia muttered. She let smoke from her cigarette curl away from her upraised hand as she studied Barbara. “Are you really as young and naïve as all that?” She squinted at Barbara and studied her with a critical eye. “Holy Christ, I think you are.” She smashed out her smoldering cigarette, then pointed at the table. “See this ashtray? It looks like marble, doesn’t it? But it’s plastic. It’s only plastic, just like anything else around here. This whole damn town is plastic. Hell, the whole damn STATE is plastic. Nothing’s real out here. Get out while you can. Go back to wherever you came from, honey. Go back to where things are real, and honest.”

“If you feel that way, why do you stay?”

“I was born here. Can you believe that? You know what they say, don’t you? Nobody’s from Hollywood, they just wind up here. But not me. My parents were movie extras and made a decent living at it. They never expected to be stars, at least not after the first month they were in town. I’ve even been in some movies. It’s fun to pick myself out in crowd scenes. Where you from? Iowa? Wyoming? Boston? It doesn’t really matter where; just get back there as quickly as you can. Home is where the real world is.”

“I want to give it my best shot, Claudia.”

Claudia raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Lord love a duck, they all do. Guess that’s the enthusiasm of youth. Shame on me for throwing cold water on your hot dreams, honey. But I‘ve been around here long enough to know that dreams can kill you, simply by not coming true.”

Barbara smiled gently. “I won’t be discouraged that easily, Claudia.”

“I thought, perhaps, you wouldn’t. Well,” she said, pushing herself out of her chair. “I’m off to see my psychiatrist now. Will you be out in the park tomorrow?”

Barbara stood up, also. “Yes. I’ll see you then.”

“I won’t be there, though. I’m leaving for a health farm in the morning. Think it’ll do me any good?”

Barbara wanted to laugh, but thought it would be insulting. “Try anything once.”

“Yes, I know. And twice if I like it. That’s how I got pregnant with my first son. Well, Ta Ta, I’m on my way.” She breezed out of the cafe with a flutter of confusion and paper napkins flying off the tables in her wake.

Barbara shook her head with amusement, and then discovered she’d been stuck with the check for the coffee. She shook her head in amazement. Maybe a cup of coffee was a cheap price to pay for meeting a genuine California character.

 

Two weeks passed, and Barbara nearly forgot the incident with Claudia until, suddenly, one noon hour, there she was in the little park again and smiling at Barbara as if arriving for an appointment with her.

“Well, do you think it was a success?” Claudia demanded in greeting.

Barbara munched on her tuna fish sandwich. “The health farm? No.”

Claudia leaned backwards with peals of laughter exploding from her body. “You should see how I look when I get back from a fat farm.”

Barbara crumpled up the paper from her sandwich and threw it away. “I guess those people have to live, too. If you rich people want to give them your money, they’ll line up to take it.”

Claudia studied Barbara. “You’ve decided you don’t like me very much, haven’t you?”

“You stiffed me for the coffee check.”

Claudia blinded. “Christ, I pissed that coffee away a long time ago. Some things you have to learn to let go, honey. You’ll need tougher skin if you’re going to survive in this town. Besides, that might be the best investment you’ll ever make.”

Barbara crossed her arms. “I suppose that now you’re going to tell me that you’re the wife of a world famous producer who is looking for a bright, young face to star in his new musical. He’s been pulling out what little hair he has left because all of the girls are too jaded and worldly. And you’ve told him that you know just the young lady.“ She gave Claudia a hard look. “Well, I’m not buying it. I‘m not even sure that your husband owns a shop across the street, or that you have a standard poodle that gets stinko on gin.”

“Yes on the husband. Nix on the poodle. We buried that lush last summer." She studied the pissed-off look on Barbara's face. "Okay. What’s eating you, anyway?”

“I don’t like someone who tries to be someone she’s not. You’ve tried to act gay and brittle with me, but I think you’re just plain scared.”

Claudia’s face fell and drooped with lines that made her look older. Claudia sat down hard on the bench beside Barbara. “Sometimes, the most difficult thing in the world is to be honest with yourself. And it’s hard to be yourself with anyone else.”

“You can be yourself with me. All I know about you is what you tell me.”

“I forget how terribly young you really are. You haven’t learned to be devious yet. If you stay in this town long enough, you will.”

“How much of what you told me the other day is true?”

“Some of it. But I meant to shock you that day. I didn’t tell you the common, everyday things that would make me sound normal. And boring.”

“What kind of things?”

“Well, I’ve got two sons who are medical doctors. They’ve given me five wonderful grandchildren who love to bake cookies with Granny. My husband and I burned the mortgage on our house three years ago, and we vote Republican. I’ve served one term on the school board and donate time to the Art Council. Are you yawning yet?”

Barbara smiled. “Not yet, and I won’t be. You sound like a very solid citizen.”

Claudia patted her hand. “And you sound like someone I really could be friends with. Tell you what, we’re giving a little party over at our house this weekend. Why don’t you come on over?”

“Oh, I couldn’t! I, I, I have nothing to wear.”

“This is California, for Christ’s sake! Come casual! Everyone else will.”

“But I wouldn’t fit in.”

“Nonsense! There will be businessmen there; true. But there will be other people, too.” Claudia winked. “Maybe even some movie stars. I’m on the Arts Council, remember? You said you sang, didn’t you? This will be a good place to rub shoulders.”

And it was. It was at Claudia’s party that Barbara experienced her third piece of luck. She was ‘discovered.’

A large crowd milled around the pool in Claudia’s backyard. Barbara threaded her way through it and made a mental note to ask her hostess about what her husband sold in his ‘little’ shop. From the looks of this mansion, Claudia’s husband dealt in something very expensive and very exclusive. 

A grand piano stood by the pool side and was momentarily vacant. Barbara slid onto the seat and began playing. Her fingers brushed over the keys and the familiar feel of the cold ivory calmed her nerves enough so she could sing. She closed her eyes, held back her head, and poured out a husky-voiced version of STORMY WEATHER. She threw all her loneliness into her song, and her voice throbbed with emotion.

When she finished, she lowered her head and brushed the keys with her fingertips while a soft song painfully emerged that reflected her melancholy mood. After the hot blush of feeling of performing had subsided, she came out of her trance, lifted her head, and looked into the face of a man who was studying her.

“Watch out,” someone whispered in her ear behind her and nudged her off the piano stool. “Let’s liven this party up a little, baby.”

“Oh!” Barbara jumped to her feet.

“Is everybody happy?!” the new piano player yelled as he tore into a wild calypso song.

Barbara stared at him. She recognized him from TV.

Someone took her elbow. “Forget about him. He’ll stop showing off when he realizes he isn’t getting paid for this gig.”

Barbara turned and recognized the man who’d been studying her when she finished her song.

“Come over here and have a drink. I want to talk to you.” He propelled her away.

“But, I don’t--”

He stopped. “Look, miss, I’m not hitting on you. Look around us. There’s plenty of chicks here who look a whole lot better than you do. Their makeup’s right and their dresses were welded on them this morning down at the San Diego shipyards. They’d crawl all over me if I let them.”

“My,” she finally managed to croak. “You must have a high opinion of yourself.”

“I’m a realistic. And I’m a music promoter, stupid! You must be new in town. Most girls are willing to do anything to get on my good side.”

“I’m not most girls.” She pulled away.

“Well, here you two are!” Claudia gushed as she walked up. “Looks like you two have already met. This is Dusty Aaron, an up-and-coming music promoter. She can really sing, can’t she? Honey, you weren’t lying to me when you said you were a singer. But where did you get that get-up? Your hair looks like it was shot out of a cannon, and any whore would envy that makeup job. And you must’ve rolled some punk kid for those clothes. But, honey, do you look cool!” She slapped Barbara on the arm. “You really look the part of a rock-and-roll singer.” She turned to Dusty. “Has she met Brad?”

“I hadn’t gotten past the part where she believes who I really am. I thought she was going to yell ‘Rape!’ How far out of the sticks did she hail from?”

Claudia threw back her head and roared with laughter. “You two are a kill! Get acquainted, for heaven’s sake. Why, here comes Brad now.”

All eyes, including Barbara’s, turned to watch a handsome, well-built man stride across the yard. A bevy of young girls clung to him. He was a pretty boy with black, curly hair and a swatch of exposed chest hair. And very pretty. Women, and men, must surely be in love with him.

“That’s Brad Barlow,” Claudia murmured into Barbara’s ear. “Be nice to him. He’s the lead singer in a band that he and Dusty Aaron are putting together. Your voice would make a dandy backup.” She pulled back and gave Barbara a sly wink.

Brad stopped in front of them. He removed his sun glasses and flashed a row of white teeth. “Claudia, darling!”

“Brad, my love!” She threw her arms around him and squeezed him until she stiffened and slapped playfully at his arm. “Pervert!” Then she giggled. “I love perverts!”

Barbara thought of the Polynesian dancing girl that Claudia’s husband was thumping. Somehow Barbara didn’t blame him.

“Brad, this is a little friend of mine that I want you to audition.”

Brad looked Barbara up and down. “No, thanks. I like things to happen spontaneously.”

Claudia laughed and slapped his arm. “You cad! She sings!”

Brad rocked from one spread foot to the other as if he was trying to cool off something hot. He arched one brushy, black eyebrow. “Most women CAN sing when I get through with them.”

Claudia howled with laughter, and Barbara thought that she was in a madhouse. Claudia coughed and sputtered and waved Brad aside. “No more! No more! Mercy! I need a drink!” She stumbled away.

“But she can’t!” Barbara protested. “She’s a recovering alcoholic.”

Brad allowed himself a grin. “Is that what she told you?”

“Apparently she was making a fool of me. She’s done it before. I’ll leave now.”

“Wait a minute. Don’t be so fragile. If you intend to stay in this town, you’ll have to develop elephant hide. Claudia was having some fun with you, but she meant no harm. What did she do? Find you on a street somewhere?”

Barbara felt her mouth drop open.

“I thought so. Be glad she didn’t invite you for the weekend. She’s got a thing for young, naive girls. She dresses in leather and shackles them in chains.” He laughed. “Boy, you must be from the sticks. Your mouth dropped open a mile on that one. Claudia is nothing like that. I was teasing. If she befriends you, feel lucky. She can introduce you to the right people, like me.”

“How come then that I’m not properly impressed?” she asked as she turned to leave. She’d had enough for awhile of these two-faced people.

He grabbed her passing arm. “Whoa! You’re indignant? You must’ve smuggled that across the state line, somehow. The last indignant Californian died years ago. The atmosphere did him in.“ He frowned at her. “You’re the remnants of a dying breed, miss.”

“I think not, Mr. Barlow. A few decent people are still alive, but they apparently don’t live in Hollywood. Will you release my arm now, or--”

Brad grinned. “Or you’ll scream? God, I’m enjoying this conversation. I haven’t been so amused in a long time.”

Dusty Aaron, who’d watched the exchange in silence, stepped forward. “Let her go, Brad. Find one who won’t struggle.”

“But they’re no challenge, my friend.” He released Barbara’s arm. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too much.”

She rubbed her arm. “No. It’s okay.”

“I hope you won’t run away, miss. After all, you did want an audition.”

“Brad--”

“Let it be, Dusty. If the lady is good--”

"Brad. She's just a singer. They're a dime a dozen out here."

"I'll be the judge of that, Dusty."

Even Barbara could hear the slight authoritative tone in Brad Barlow's voice. She wondered just what the relationship was between Brad and Dusty outside the office.

Dusty's eyes bristled with anger, but he bit his lips together to keep from saying something he would regret later."

Brad saw the suppressed anger and softened. “Oh, I’ll see you later, Dusty. Go on, will you? Get lost for awhile, okay? I'll be alright.” 

Dusty stomped away.

Brad grinned at Barbara. “I thought he’d never leave. Didn’t you?”

"He seemed upset."

Brad glanced in the general direction that Dusty had taken. "He worries about me." Then he looked down at Barbara, and he seemed to relax. "But I don't know why he would worry about me with you. You seem perfectly normal to me. But who knows what normal is around here? The whole southern part of California is full of crazy people."

"I've seen my share of them, and I haven't been here very long."

"I expect you have."

"Will he be okay?"

"After awhile. After he sees I still have my full carcass." He frowned. "And after he counts the money I mean to him."

"I just didn't want to make an enemy of him."

He waved her away. "Oh, he'll be alright. Why worry about him?"

“He didn’t like me very much.”

Brad threw back his head and laughed. “God, how refreshing! The truth, for a change!” He chucked her under the chin. “You must learn to lie, little one, or you’ll never make it in this business. What are you? A preacher’s daughter?”

Barbara lifted her chin, so that his finger wasn‘t on her flesh anymore. “A singer, Mr. Barlow. All I want is the chance to prove that.”

Brad studied her, perhaps for the first time. “Then you shall have that chance.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

“But, where?”

“To audition for me.”

“My car--”

“You can pick it up tomorrow.”

“But--“

He stopped and looked back at her. “Do you want to be a singer?”

“Yes.”

“More than anything?”

“Yes!”

He held up his finger. “Then nothing, but nothing, must stand in your way. You must be willing to sacrifice anything. Anything, understand?”

“Yes!” She grabbed his hand and together they ran across the lawn and away from the party.

Claudia stood looking at their departure. Another one was being launched. Claudia should declare herself as an agent and get paid for all of the careers she’d gotten started. But there are other ways of being paid besides monetary. And sometimes Claudia was richly reimbursed.

Sometimes not. 

Only time would tell with this young girl. But she was ripe. If Claudia didn’t get a chance at that ripeness, she only hoped that Brad should be appreciative. After all, someone should tap all of that naïve willingness. If not Claudia, then Brad.

But it would have been so nice to have gotten to Claudia first. Oh, well. Sometimes, you just have to be philosophical about these things. After all, another girl would be heading her way soon from Florida. Or Omaha. Or Boise.

Just not Barbara. 

Claudia sighed, then stirred herself and returned to her party.


	14. Chapter 14

With a weary groan, Barbara rolled over in the bed and shoved her face into a cool spot on the pillow. Her whole head was vibrating in pain, and the damned sheets smelled of jasmine.

Jasmine! She didn’t scent her linens with jasmine!

Barbara sat straight up and immediately wished she hadn’t. She wrapped her arms around her head and hoped she wouldn’t vomit all over these silken sheets. Whatever she’d been drinking had been a killer. She hoped she’d enjoyed herself, because she sure as hell didn’t remember it.

Cool air swirled around her bare shoulders, and she dared to open her eyes to this crazy day with its crazier reality. The whiteness of the room blinded her, and the sounds of surf breaking on the beach reached her through the open windows. 

Surf? She didn’t live near the ocean. That much she would have remembered. Because she loved the ocean, but could not afford to live anywhere near it.

This was not her apartment, but where was she?

She glanced past her naked breasts and saw blood on the sheet beneath her. She must’ve lost her virginity, also. One of the most important moments of her life had been celebrated last night, and she didn’t even remember it.

She arose, donned a white terry robe she found on a chair and wandered in a trance barefooted out of the bedroom. She was a little stiff and sore in her lower regions, but otherwise felt no ill effects from her deflowering. She didn’t even feel remorse. All she wanted now was a hot shower and some headache tablets. 

Barbara found Brad Barlow hunkered down in a chair on a balcony overlooking the ocean. He wore a matching white terry robe to hers and was drinking coffee out of an earthen mug.

He watched her shuffle to the coffee pot and pour herself a cup. A large clump of damp, dark hair hung over her one eye, but she made no effort to brush it out of her way.

“You okay?” Brad asked with concern in his voice.

She nodded and held the cup to her mouth. “Headache,” she mumbled into it. The hot fumes hit her forehead. They both hurt and felt wonderful.

Brad slammed down his coffee mug, and Barbara flinched.

“Holy shit, you’re a virgin!”

“Not anymore,” she mumbled.

Brad jumped up and grabbed her wrist. Barbara screamed as coffee slopped down the front of her terry robe. One breast was partially exposed, but Brad didn’t even notice.

“Listen, Jail Bait, I didn’t know.”

He twisted her wrist and she cried out in pain.

“How old are you, anyway?”

“Let me go! Let me go and I’ll tell you.” She set the coffee cup down and tears smarted in her eyes as she rubbed her wrist. “I’m eighteen, so you can relax.”

“Eighteen?! How did you ever get this far without, well, you know, losing it.”

“There are still parts of the country where a girl keeps her chastity until her wedding night. I’ve had mine, I guess, and I don’t even remember it.”

He grabbed her wrist and she gasped. “Well, it was no thrill for me, either, bitch. I like a little more experience in my women.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere, right?”

“Got a mouth on you, don’t you?”

Tears smarted in her eyes. “And you think brute strength is the answer to everything, don’t you?”

“What do you want? A repeat of last night? Something that you CAN remember? Believe me, honey, I can give you an experience you’ll never forget.”

He raked open the front of her robe and she fought away his disrespectful hands. She made little choking sounds in her throat as she fought, but he was determined to bedevil her. Tears were starting to smarten her eyes as he continued to pester her.

“Holy Christ, Brad. Let the little bitch go.”

They whirled to see Dusty Aaron standing in the doorway. Barbara pulled the robe around her, but not before Dusty had gotten a revealing glimpse of her nakedness.

“When I didn’t find you at your apartment, I thought I might find you out here.”

Barbara stared at Brad. “This isn’t your place?”

Brad smirked. “What do you think I’m made of, honey? Money?”

“But, whose place is this?”

“A real good actor buddy loans it out when he’s out of town. I bring girls up here to impress them. They’re real good to me when they think I’ve got money.”

“And now I know differently, don’t I?”

Brad let his breath out noisily. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up so you can get taken back to your car? Dusty, sit down and have some coffee.”

Barbara left the room obediently.

“But--” Dusty started.

Brad held a finger up until he heard a door closing far away.

“Why not just send her on her way?”

“She can sing,” Brad said as he sipped his coffee. 

“In this town, who doesn‘t?” Dusty snorted.

“And, she’s got money.”  
\  
Dusty looked up with interest.

“Money to invest,” Brad added.

“How much?”

“I don’t know! But she recently settled her parents’ estate, and all that money is just lying there, in a bank, getting musty, just waiting for the right business opportunity to come along.” He grinned broadly.

Dusty squirmed comfortably in his chair. “We might be able to get this band organized yet. She could be a silent partner. Of course, one of us will probably have to keep her happy so she wouldn’t be too inquisitive about her investment.”

“Or both of us? Eh?” Brad arched his eyebrow and chuckled. “Not bad working conditions, eh? Eh?”

They were both laughing when Barbara re-appeared in the funky outfit she’d worn the night before.

“Did I miss something?”

“You had to be there, honey,” Brad answered.

“Which one of you, ah, gentlemen is going to drive me back to my car?”

Dusty jumped to his feet. “Reckon that’s my cue.”

Barbara frowned. “You?”

“I’d like to talk some business with you. As you recall, we never had our little talk last night.”

Brad beamed at her and waved. “Caio, Baby.”

All Barbara could do was to follow Dusty to his Cutlass.

“...so you see, we can cut a business deal, if you’re willing. You’d be a silent partner. We wouldn’t want the musicians and other singers to know. That could cause all sorts of jealousies, and artists can be so temperamental.”

“What about my income taxes?”

Dusty was impressed by her practical side. “I have an accountant who would keep all of that straight for you. We can even have partnership papers drawn up, if you wish. You realize, of course, that there’s no guarantees to this deal. You could lose your money.”

“And I could gain the recognition for my singing that I’ve always craved. I’d be working with a band, Mr. Aaron. For that opportunity, I’d gamble about everything.”

Dusty dropped her by her second-hand Mustang in Claudia’s driveway. As she opened the door, Barbara saw a curtain move aside in Claudia’s house. Claudia’s inquisitive face appeared and she held her hands out, palms up, as if to ask a question. Bless her, Barbara thought. If it hadn’t been for Claudia, she’d not met Dusty Aaron and Brad Barlow.

Barbara grinned and made a circle of her thumb and index finger. Claudia hugged herself with glee.

 

“All right, girls,” Dusty said. “We can’t have two girls named Barbara singing backup. One of you will have to go by something else.”

“Let them toss for it,” Cindy Smith suggested. She was the third girl singing backup.

Barbara Crider liked Cindy Smith. Cindy seemed natural and unaffected by Hollywood hype. But Barbara Dayne was another matter. When she wasn’t singing, she was popping bubble gum or painting her fingernails. She paid no attention to her over-bleached hair that was so dry it looked like it could burst into flame at any moment.

Barbara Dayne won the toss and kept her name. Barbara Crider became Bambi Love. Dusty Aaron named her and was also the one who came up with the corny name for the group: The Report Card: Three Bs and a C. The three Bs were Brad, Barbara, and Bambi. The C was Cindy.

The group sang on weekends and whenever they could get away for a mass concert of many bands. They developed a small following, but nothing to make them stars. They held onto their daytime jobs and waited for success. They all felt like it was just around the corner, waiting for them.

Barbara long remembered the first time she did any drugs stronger than marijuana. She and Brad were to spend the night making love, but the drugs killed desire and they slept like siblings in the same bed.

Barbara also had the quirk of disappearing from the group when they had no immediate concert dates. She simply tamed her hair, donned ordinary clothes, and drove away. People who might recognize her in her Report Card outfit never guessed that the fresh scrubbed young woman before them was someone slightly famous. The Report Card members also became accustomed to her vanishing for several days without notice.

Barbara Crider was clean-cut looking and very forgettable, but donning the disguise of Bambi Love brought out Barbara’s alter ego and made it possible for her to perform. She not only acted like Bambi Love, she became Bambi Love.

Life settled into a comfortable routine for Barbara. As Bambi Love, she met many Hollywood celebrities. Barbara Crider would’ve been shy around famous people, but not Bambi Love in her wild clothes and wilder makeup. And Bambi’s extraordinary voice became well-known. A regular feature of any concert with the Report Card was Bambi’s solo. THE UNCHAINED MELODY became her trademark.

Bambi was offered a contract by a talent scout, but she turned it down because she was afraid Brad Barlow would become jealous of her success. She owed him her loyalty because he had given her the break she’d needed to get into show business. Besides, at that time, Bambi was having an affair with Brad. She quietly bowed to his wishes and stayed with him.

Barbara did not realize that she was being used by Brad or, more precisely, by the band manager Dusty Aaron. Whether she was a victim of the men in her life or had purely bad luck in picking men was difficult to tell, but she was blindly content. She dressed funky, sported shot-from-cannon hair in bizarre colors, and her makeup was atrocious, but upbeat. Nobody knew what she really looked like and even she barely remembered. For now she had quit her Kelly girl job and was living on her band money. Any excess was kept for her by Dusty since he was also the band banker, too.

Barbara smoked marijuana and did harder drugs occasionally but didn’t particularly care to get hooked on them. Not because she realized she shouldn’t; she just didn’t need it. There wasn’t much point to her life, but that didn’t bother her, either. Aren’t poets and other thinkers always hollering about living for today? Well, that’s what she was doing, living for today.

But one day in a moment of greed, she demanded money from Dusty to buy a hot red car she’d spotted. She didn’t particularly need the car, but she was high on drugs and felt like a spoiled child who had to be indulged. She threw quite a scene until she was apprehended by the police.

Barbara was sent to a de-tox center where she insisted she wasn’t a user. She emerged weeks later, clean and sworn off drugs for life. Aspirins even frightened her.

She stared at her face in the mirror. She’d forgotten what Barbara Crider looked like. But what about Bambi Love? Her alter ego was her career. She breathed deeply for courage, donned her stage makeup and costume, and headed back to the stage.

She was welcomed back to the Report Card warmly by the band and wildly by the fans. She sang THE UNCHAINED MELODY for them again and bathed in the thunderous response. Tears furrowed ugly rivers in her makeup, but Brad winked at her. He admitted her back to the group and to his bed.

What accounted for much of her popularity was the sentimental song that Brad had written for her and recorded while she was at the de-tox center:

“Bambi, don’t you cry for me  
If you’re all alone.  
I didn’t mean to hurt you, girl;  
Your darlin’s coming home.  
That little fight sure hurt us, girl;  
We mustn’t stay apart.  
How could you turn your back on me:  
Your love’s inside my heart.”

 

The song went on with equally syrupy and embarrassing lyrics, but Barbara tolerated them. She knew it was the only way Brad could express his love and the fact he had missed her while she was gone.

The wave of popularity gradually ebbed away and died, but Bambi stayed loyal to Brad. Weeks passed and the old routine started again, except Barbara stayed clean of drugs. She banked her money with Brad, sang with the band, and shared Brad’s bed. It wasn’t much of a life, but she was contented. 

 

Then, one night, Barbara’s simple life exploded.

Barbara had seen the pretty teenage ranging around the band before, but the youngster was no different than hundreds of the fans trying to meet a celebrity so Barbara had paid her no attention. But this night Dusty hustled the girl away from the stage. Curious, Barbara followed.

“What are you doing here?” Dusty hissed at the girl.

“Please! I have to see Brad!”

“Well, he isn’t interested in seeing you, honey. Shove off!”

 

“I’ll got to the press! I’ll--”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort! Your old man is getting enough dough off us already.”

“But I want to marry Brad! I want us to raise this baby together.”

Barbara gasped. Baby?!

Dusty grabbed the girl roughly. “Shut up! We don’t want Bambi to get wind of this. Brad will never want you to have that baby. You’ll have to have an abortion.”

“Oh, I can’t! Not Brad’s baby--”

Barbara moved out of the shadows. “Why shouldn’t I hear about this girl, Dusty? Why shouldn’t I know what Brad’s been doing while I was at the de-tox center?”

Dusty shoved the girl aside. “Bitch! Get out of Brad’s life! Now look what you’ve done!”

The girl ran crying out the door.

“I’m waiting, Dusty.”

“You know how it happens, Bambi. If it’s slapped up against a guy, he’s stupid for not grabbing a piece for himself. After all, it‘s free.”

“I’m not that naive to think Brad is always loyal. But this must involve something else. Why does Brad want to keep me happy. And quiet?”

“You’re reading too much into this, Bambi. Trust me--”

“I’d rather trust a rattlesnake! There’s some reason why-- My money! You’ve taken my money! That’s what the band’s been running on. Or, or, or, that’s what you’ve given that girl and her father. Either way, it was my money, wasn’t it?”

“Now, Bambi--”

“How much have you stolen from me?”

Dusty arched an eyebrow. “The books show you’ve been withdrawing it, honey. For months now.”

“For months? This has been going on for months?! That’s why Brad didn’t want me to take that record contract?”

“That, and the fact you were drawing folks in with that voice of yours.” He pulled some money out of his billfold. “Here. Take this. Interest on your investment. Play your cards right, honey, and I’ll get it all back for you. I’m sure we could make, ah, some kind of deal.”

She slapped the money out of his hand. “Who did you steal this money from?!”

He stopped her hand from slapping his face. “Careful, honey. The only reason I’ve never touched you is that you belong to Brad. But not even that would stop me if I decided to show you who’s really boss around her. Remember, Brad believes anything I tell him.” He shoved her hand away. “I suggest you take the money, and shut up.”

“He’ll think I stole it!”

“It’s better than if it’s found here.”

“You stole it! You stole it from Brad! How can you keep all this straight?”

“Shut up! We both know Brad’s going down the tubes! Hell, this way, we both salvage something! Why the hell are you so loyal?! He fools around with other women. You gotta know that.”

“You wouldn’t understand!”

He shoved her roughly. “Pick up that money before I break your fool neck!”

He looked angry enough to do just that, too. Barbara squatted and picked up several bills and stuffed them into her pocket.

“This is nowhere close to what you owe me!”

“It’s all you’re getting, bitch!” He pulled her to her feet and slapped her.

Barbara screamed, but the noise of the band and its fans drowned her out. Dusty drew his fist back to hit her again, but she gave him a mighty shove backwards. Surprised and off-balance, he stumbled. Barbara whirled and struck him with the first thing she could grab: a fire extinguisher. Dusty fell into a sodden heap to the floor.

Barbara stared at his crumpled body and hoped she hadn’t killed him. He moaned, and she leaped backward. He was still alive, but for how long?

She grabbed her makeup bag and her purse from the dressing room, pulled her jeans and long-sleeved blouse over her tattered costume, and ran down the hallway. Strains of rock-and-roll music followed her. At any moment, someone would be looking for her to come onstage.

At the office she scooped money into her purse. It was gate receipts for that evening’s performance, but it was actually her money. She wanted away from Brad and Dusty. She wanted away from Los Angeles. And the only thing that could get her out of town was money.

She hurried toward the back door, but got stopped. “Bambi? What are you doing in those duds? We’re on next?”

“Sure. Sure, Cindy. I’ll hurry. Just gotta get something out of my car.”

“Have you seen Dusty? Brad’s looking for him.”

She didn’t even answer Cindy as she torn out the back door of the club and headed for freedom.

 

Out of Los Angeles and across the silent, dark desert, she flew. Little traffic was on the road at this time of night. Besides, the cops didn’t mind how fast people drove on this stretch between L.A. and Las Vegas. So she had her license to fly.

She was pretty sure Dusty wouldn’t report her theft to the police. A close check of his books and Brad’s suspicions were two things he didn’t want.

Barbara sped into Vegas just as the sun was rising. Neon signs still winked and a few hardy souls straggled on the streets. Otherwise, the Strip looked deserted.

Her tires squalled as she bounced into the parking lot of the Sands. Nan worked here. Nan, an old friend who had been a Kelly Girl with her in L.A., would know what to do.

Barbara got odd looks as she raced through the casino with her ratty clothing and disheveled hair and makeup. Even in this town, people could still stare.

Nan crushed her cigarette. She looked much older and harder than she actually was. “My God, Bambi. I don’t know what to tell you to do except to disappear. Go underground. Get out of town. Don’t get around anyone you’ve ever known. Get away from me as soon as possible.”

“Oh, Nan, I don’t know what to do--”

“It’s not that I don’t want to help you, kid, but Dusty will naturally check your friends first. I saw some heavy muscle in the casino during the night. Now I know who they were looking for.” Nan held up her hand. “Don’t tell me anything. Then I won’t be able to repeat it. Just go, and, good luck, honey. You‘re going to need it.” She gave Barbara a quick hug, shoved her out the back door of the Sands, and went back to her job in the cashier’s cage.

Barbara screeched out of the Sands parking lot and drove east on the Strip. She thought she saw heavy muscle everywhere. Gangsters seemed to be looming on every street corner, when common sense told her that they wouldn’t be that visible.

Twisting and turning, she soon found herself lost in the suburbs. She drove aimlessly around. Suburbia was starting to awaken for the day. One woman in her housecoat came outside and picked up her newspaper. Another saw her children off on the way to school. Boring lives being boringly led. And this morning was the first time that Barbara had ever envied them. Wouldn’t it be nice to belong to one of these houses and one of these families? Wouldn’t it be nice to go inside and have another cup of coffee while discussing the day’s agenda?

Soon, the houses started looking very similar. She had no idea where she was exactly, but she was not concerned. She wanted to stay off the highways, out of downtown, and off the Strip. If ever she thought she was lost, she could just aim for the mountains. Eventually, she would come to the edge of town. In the meantime, she felt safer in the suburbs and she could think of her next move.

She had to put Bambi Love out of existence. Her best disguise was to look like normal people, like people who lived in suburbia.

She passed a yard sale, slammed on her brakes, and jumped out. For a little of nothing, she bought a brown tweed skirt, a cowboy shirt with yellow roses on it, a long sleeved burgundy cotton sweater, a short sleeved sweatshirt with palm trees stenciled on it, a two-piece dress in a blue print, two pairs of acid-washed jeans, a pair of gold suede oxfords, a royal blue quilted jacket, and a battered suitcase with good latches.

She drove to a large truck stop near the interstate and scrubbed her hair and face until her skin and scalp tingled. She put on the tweed skirt and cowboy shirt and emerged looking like a completely different person.

She drove to a roadside rest area to dump her clothes. In the process of opening the trash can, she cut her hand and bled on her tattered costume. She couldn’t throw away her heels, though. They were good shoes, but she did don the suede shoes.

But her old car could get her caught. Too many people knew it on sight. Dusty Aaron did and would certainly tell the men that he had searching for her just what it looked like. So she drove back into Vegas, parked along a deserted street, and began walking toward the bus station. She checked her suitcase in a locker, walked several blocks to a discount store, and bought essential under garments and notions such as a toothbrush and sanitary products. She thought with a pang of the makeup kit she’d tossed away with her clothes. Saving only powder blusher and one lipstick had been difficult. Living under layers of makeup had become a way of life for several years.

At the bus station she packed her purchases in the suitcase and bought a bus ticket north. She didn’t care where she was headed, as long as it took her out of Bambi Love’s life forever.

She was frightened as the bus sped through Las Vegas. Severing all ties with the past was scary. But what the hell! She’d done it before, hadn’t she? She hadn’t been Barbara Crider from Bristol, Rhode Island, for ages. And now here it was time to assume a new identity.

As the bus headed northeast out of town toward Salt Lake City, Barbara felt the fresh air of adventure fan her face.

When the bus stopped in Cedar City for supper, the desert was cooling and Barbara was wishing she had worn her jeans and the quilted coat. But there was no way the bus driver would dig her suitcase out of the storage area of the bus just so she could get warmer clothing. She had a miserable, cold night ahead of her on the bus, and then she spotted the serapes for sale in the gift shop that adjoined the restaurant.

The Mexican blankets that could be worn as an outer garment came in several colors and price ranges. Barbara chose the plainest and cheapest. She wasn’t a tourist who would proudly show off the souvenir off to family and friends in Boston or Birmingham. She simply wanted to stay warm during a night that turns chilly, even in the desert.

And she also realized she was hungry. She hadn’t eaten since sometime yesterday so she ordered a hearty stew with chunky vegetables and fresh baked bread heavy with butter. She practically inhaled a banana and stuffed apples and cheese crackers in a net sack to nibble on through the night. Wrapped in the serape and carrying the net sack made her feel like a peasant woman, and to casual eyes she looked like a peasant woman.

A middle-aged man tried to catch her eye, but she seated herself near an elderly woman and pretended to sleep to discourage conversation with her. When the elderly woman made rhythmic, snoring sounds, Barbara pulled out an apple and stealthily munched it. Then she curled in a knot and slept. She loved her serape. Who needed a man for warmth?

Morning found them coasting into Salt Lake City. Barbara stood outside the bus terminal and blinked in the bright sunshine. Now she didn’t need the serape; the day was going to be fair and warm. But the coming night would be chilly again.

Barbara rolled the woolen serape up and belted it around her shoulder. Not really having anywhere to go, she started walking. She packed the suitcase around for hours, then returned to the bus terminal. Salt Lake City was beautiful, but it wasn’t her sanctuary. Yet, as she sat in the terminal, she couldn’t bring herself to buy another bus ticket. Not yet. She needed to feel like she was living in the real world again. She needed to sit still for awhile. But where?

Barbara drifted out of the terminal and walked a few blocks to a cheap motel. She took a long shower, donned the two-piece blue dress and heels, and walked across the street to a McDonald's restaurant where she devoured two cheeseburgers, a large order of fries, and a large strawberry shake. Naughty girl, she reprimanded herself. She was going to have to eat more than once a day. And it would have to be healthier food. But she doubted if it would taste any better than the satisfying meal that she’d just consumed.

She congratulated herself on her appearance. She had gone into the motel looking like a peasant and had emerged looking like a matron on her way to a church meeting. Even the motel clerk approved of her change; she could tell by his look of relief when they met in the hall. He must’ve thought she was some sort of hooker when she had registered.

The only thing that wrecked her dignified, quaint appearance was the bandana tied around her unruly hair. It’d take sometime before her hair would be manageable again. Months of conditioning and haircuts would improve it.

Haircut! Tomorrow she would get a decent haircut.

And that’s exactly what she did. The beautician nearly scalped her, but Barbara loved the short hair that she could shake dry. She left the salon feeling pounds lighter, except for the conditioner in her pocket.

She stayed in Salt Lake City for another day, seeing the Tabernacle and Museum and doing other touristy things. The beautiful city would always have a special place in her heart, but she knew she had to move on. Salt Lake City would be logical place to look for her. Besides, she’d counted the money she’d taken from Dusty, and the amount astounded her. She could live for months on it if she was very careful. It wasn’t all that Dusty owed her, but it was close.

Two days later Barbara stepped off a bus in Pocatello, Idaho. She was wearing jeans and the quilted coat and was happy with her choice. Several years in Southern California had made her forget that other parts of the country got cold, and early summer was chilly when one was near the mountains.

She accepted a ride to Yellowstone Park with a charming young man and paid her bill that night in a Park camp ground. They watched Old Faithful the next morning and parted company amiably. Barbara walked into the Visitors Center and promptly found a job washing dishes.

Not that she need the job or the money. She thought a national park would be a safe place to be. And who would look for her washing dishes?

She made friends with several young people working at the Visitors Center and was able to see most of the park by catching rides with them. What she loved most were the wild animals, especially the herds of elk. She never saw a bear and really didn’t mind if she missed that sight.

One weekend she went camping with several couples. Waking up with cedar in the air and bare arms around her body were invigorating. The boys were young and healthy, brash and full of fun and loving. Barbara enjoyed the weekend tremendously, but it would never become a way of life for her. Most of the young people were college students on summer jobs. Barbara just didn’t fit in with the crowd.

She wondered if she would ever find a place that felt homey enough for her to stay for very long. In the meantime, she was enjoying her vagabond odyssey across the American West. If she did not have to worry about Dusty Aaron looking for her, it would be perfect.


	15. Chapter 15

“W-What? I, I’m sorry, Professor Crandall. What was the question again, please?” Barbara asked. She had been thinking about her stay in Yellowstone instead of concentration on the class discussion. For a moment, she had actually been back in that national park where she had been wondering if she would ever find a home. Then had come Tommy Nolan, and now Pennsylvania.

“Welcome back, Miss Crider,” Crandall answered in a slightly condescending manner as a ripple of titters from the other students flitted around the classroom. “I realize that high summer is an insufferable time of the year to be studying something as ponderous and weighty as Beethoven’s music, but one must be willing to undergo torture for one’s art, mustn’t one?” His smile was thin and cruel as he looked down his arrogantly thin nose at Barbara. This time, no one laughed. Who knew who his next victim might be?

“Yes, sir,” she answered and tried to keep her voice impersonal. He loved to engage students in silly, exhausting dialogues in which no one could really win but him.  
After all, he was the head of the music department at the college which Barbara attended. He treated his faculty the same way he did his students. But he was a brilliant musician and a gifted instructor. The college was lucky to have him on its staff, and Barbara was lucky to have finally gotten into one of his classes. It was proving to be both a rewarding and an exasperating experience.

And Eric was right about him. Crandall was a chicken shit. Eric had tried to warn Barbara.

Eric ought to know about Frederick Crandall. Eric Riley was a professor of music on Crandall’s faculty. Eric Riley was also Barbara’s lover.

“We will forgive you this time, Miss Crider. After all, the possessor of a voice as fine as yours would have thrilled Beethoven, if he could have only heard you. He would have wept and cursed his deafness.”

Brother, she thought, but stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She managed to mumble aloud, “Thank you, Professor.” Not only was Crandall a chicken shit, he could sure spread a lot of it around. But she’d brought a lot of this trouble on herself.

Trying out for the college choir had been a mixed blessing. It had brought her to Eric’s attention, and to Crandall’s. She figured Crandall knew of her relationship with Eric and would like to replace him, simply because of her voice. The man was enough of an egotistical ass to assume he deserved the best.

“I’ll see you after class, Miss Crider, and I’ll assign you some extra work to make up for your tardiness in thought today.”

Holy shit, Barbara thought. The little dweb is going to try to proposition me again.

 

Barbara dragged herself up to the podium as the class filtered out the door. “What’s my assignment, Professor Crandall?”

His eyes flashed over her body. “If I told you, you’d slap me.”

“Probably. Let’s keep this impersonal, Professor. I took this class because you’re the best teacher in the music department. I came here to learn music from you, and, THAT’S ALL!”

“And that’s all I want to teach you, Crider.” he said innocently, but couldn’t quite hide the lecherous gleam in his eyes.

She let her breath out impatiently.

“I know you don’t believe that, but the rest is all a game. The sexual comments and the lewd innuendoes are nothing but window dressing. I get such a marvelous reputation with the students if it seems I’m trying to hit on one of the girls.”

“Are you crazy?! You can get kicked off the faculty for that!”

“The administration will tolerate a great deal of odd behavior in order to keep me. Gives the school so much prestige, you see. Besides, they think I’d do anything to get to lick some guy’s balls.”

“You’re gay?!”

He snapped shut a book. “That’s what they think. What do you think, Crider?”

“I think you’re crazier than hell!”

“And well I might be. But I’m a talented person. I have the right to act anyway I want. You are also talented, Crider, but you don’t have that right. Wait! Listen to me. Talent like yours needs to be developed. You aren’t sharing yourself with the world.”

“Neither are you!”

“Yes, I am, the best way I can,” he answered with a sigh. “I’m a better teacher than musician. I can execute more than create. I’m a better craftsman than innovator. All of that can be very frustrating, Miss Crider. And with me, that frustration comes off as cynicism. Being caustic and cutting down other people are my defenses.”

It occurred to Barbara that he was revealing more of himself to her than he normally did to people. His motive for cultivating her talent piqued her interest. It must be very important to him to focus her into a career, more important than maintaining his carefully nurtured blasé attitude.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

He sighed. “Because you are a lovely singer. Stop wasting your time in this back-water college. Get out and have a career.”

“I don’t want a career!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone with an ounce of talent would give anything for a career in music, but there just aren’t that many openings for professional musicians and singers. And, Crider, you have more than an ounce of talent.”

“I don’t want it,” she mumbled.

“What happened? Have you already tried being a professional? What drove you away?”

Tears smarted in her eyes. “You bastard! You don’t understand!” She turned away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken that way, Professor.”

“Forget that I’m your instructor. We’re one-on-one here. I really want to know. What’s your story, Crider?”

She breathed deeply. “If I said the name I went by and the name of the group, you’d probably recognize them.”

He nodded wisely. “Of course. I have no idea who you were, but you had to have been important. Go ahead.”

She shrugged. “There’s nothing much else to tell. I was leading an empty life; it wasn’t really living. I left it all behind.”

“And a pity for us all, I suppose.” He studied her. “Was it Hollywood? Or Nashville? Or New York City?”

She wrung her hands as she paced. “Is it really important where I sang?”

“I suppose not. I’m just trying to categorize your style of singing.”

“Soft rock. The blues. Some country. The ballads.”

“Ah, yes. I can see you there very well. There must be a lonesome notch just waiting for your return.”

“Please don’t push this any further, Professor Crandall. I’ve changed my life. I don’t want to go back. If you try pushing me, I’ll disappear again.”

“And I don’t want that to happen. You’ve done enough running. Nobody should become too anonymous. Everyone eventually needs roots.” He looked at her sharply. “Are you sure about all of this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I suppose I should abide by your decision.” He smiled and one eyebrow arched upward. “I don’t have to like it, though, do I?”

Tears slid down her face as she smiled and shook her head. “No.”

“That’s what I thought. Please remember, though, that I didn’t mean to meddle. I really do have the interests of my students in mind. It might surprise you, Crider, but even I have redeeming qualities.”

She attempted a smile and hoped she wouldn’t burst out crying. She was finding that she liked this son of a bitch, and that surprised her.

“Okay, then. Get out of here. And pay attention in class, won’t you? I dispense pearls of great value. I suggest you get your money’s worth.”

Her smile broadened. “Thank you. I will.”

“Go on. Before we both vomit.”

She grinned and nodded before she turned to leave.

He watched her slip out the door and sighed. What a pity! She was such a mediocre person, but her talent! Why were the gods so cruel?

 

The summer heat finally culminated in a thunder storm that cooled central Pennsylvania and the college town where Barbara Crider resided. In a book-cluttered room, Barbara lay cuddled next to a man on a narrow cot. Both were fully clothed and fully absorbed with watching the rain run down the window in rivulets.

“Eric?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think your parents will really like me?”

He tilted her head up so they looked into each other’s eyes. “They’re going to love you, just like I do.” He kissed the top of her head and snuggled her against his chest. “Just you watch and see.”

“When?”

He tilted her chin up again and brushed her lips with his. “Soon, my precious one. We can’t let you get away, can we?” He ran his hand possessively down the length of her body. “Who could forget that weekend in the Poconos?”

“And it’ll only get better, Eric. I promise.”

Barbara pulled her arms around his head and congratulated herself. Eric Riley was going to be quite a catch. Blonde, handsome, and eligible, he was the answer to her prayers. A comfortable career in this or in some other small college lay before him. Barbara could stand at his side as a consummate faculty wife. Their home would be cultured and refined and respectable. They would raise children according to the currently approved methods. They would run their lives according to the ideals of other upper middle-class people.

Other girls might find a future with Eric Riley dull, but Barbara longed for its security. For several months now, all she really wanted from life was a sanctuary. After seeing Melana Clerke-Jones get killed by that hit and run driver, Barbara realized how fragile life really was.

“Hold me!”

“Gladly.”

She couldn’t think of Melana Clerke-Jones or St. Louis or any part of her life in California or Montana.

Her shaking gradually ceased. She trailed her hand up his arm and caressed the back of his neck. “Love me?”

“Gladly.”

“I mean, do you? Do you love me?”

How tiresome! Women always had to know that. “Of course, I love you, you silly little tart.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Don’t I show you often enough?”

“Of course, you do. It’s just that-- Oh, Eric, I do love being with you.”

But I don’t love you, she thought as he went to work on her left ear. I wish I could be as glib about it as you are, but I can’t. How wonderful to be able to say that ‘I love you.’

She’d never told Eric that. She’d never told any man that. She wondered if she ever could. She owned bits and pieces of the men she’d loved. She’d always treasure those bits and pieces. How could she ever love one man totally when there were so many bits and pieces of others cluttering up her heart?

“Sometimes I feel like you’re not always with me on our little jaunts into the Forests of Amore, Barbara,” he told her later.

She was solicitous. She knew how fragile men’s egos were. “I’m sorry. I try to be.”

“I know, sweetheart. You try. Let me up now. I have a class in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“Me, too, sweetheart.” He meant that. She really was a good lay.

She watched him tidy himself. Eric had a good physique from participating in college sports as an undergraduate and doing daily exercise religiously now. Well-known labels announced his designer clothing. He was knowledgeable about the world and a good mixer. He was so NORMAL. Life would be safe with him. She could learn to overlook the occasional arrogance that could come into his handsome face or the condescending tone in his voice. He was far superior to her in many ways, and they both knew it. To Barbara, though, bowing to his intellect and to his position would be a small price to pay for being his wife.

Eric straightened his tie. “Oh, by the way. The Browning Quintet has been replaced for Saturday night’s cultural concert.”

“Really? I was looking forward to hearing them.”

“Me, too. Hope you don’t mind. Crandall wants a variety of concerts, so quality of performers isn’t always his criteria for booking them.”

She wanted to shout, ‘Oh, don’t be such a musical snob!’, but of course she didn’t. Instead she shrugged and said, “Music’s music. I’ll catch the quintet later. I want to absorb it all. Who’s appearing in their place?”

“Some rock group from California. I doubt if you’ve ever heard of them. Something called The Report Card.”

Barbara’s head shot up, but Eric was adjusting his cuffs and didn’t see her reaction. How ironic that her old singing group would be appearing in her small college town! She thought nobody could find her in this backwater community.

“They probably won’t be worth the effort of attending,” he continued. “But they had an interesting hit song a few years ago. Something about a girl named Bambi who used to sing with them and then disappeared. The song was rather insipid as I remember, but the mystery of her disappearance is what appealed to people. Seems she used to shack up with the lead singer, and in the song the poor guy spills his guts about missing her and wanting her back.” He smirked. “It might be an interesting evening, after all. Maybe he is still bawling his eyes out about her. The psychology of crowd empathy might be amusing to watch.”

Barbara seemed not to be listening.

“Barbara? Do you mind going, really?”

“Of course not. Music’s music, right? What harm can it cause?”

What harm, indeed, Barbara thought after Eric left. So many years of trying to forget Brad and Dusty and the Report Card had nearly met with success. And now this! 

What if someone recognized her?

But, of course, she wouldn’t be recognized. She’d be merely a nameless face in the audience attending a concert. What harm could come of that?

 

“You look very fetching this evening, my dear.”

Barbara hated it when Eric acted sophisticated to impress other diners. She felt ill at ease in the night club, but she supposed part of her trouble was the upcoming concert given by the Report Card.

“Thank you, I’m sure.” She could act sophisticated, too.

His smile was charming. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you wearing such an arresting shade of red.”

True, the color was a little bright; but she’d chosen it to give herself courage. The style was daring with its dipped neckline and slit skirt, but dramatic with its otherwise stark simplicity. Heads had turned when she’d entered the night club, and she knew she was advertising like some sort of slattern. She’d hoped Eric would disapprove and take her home so she would not have to attend the rock concert. On the contrary, he seemed to condone her choice.

“Shall we dance, my dear?”

He seemed oblivious to the eyes watching their circuit around the floor. Every step hiked her slit dress higher up her thigh. She saw several admiring glances from men seated in the audience.

“I didn’t know you were a voyeur,” she whispered. “You’re enjoying showing me off, aren’t you?” She’d hidden her face in his neck so her burning cheeks wouldn’t show.

“Never play poker with me, my dear. No one knows when I’m bluffing.”

“You’re a bastard,” she hissed, and desire for him flickered in her.

“And you’re a fake.”

She pulled back to look up at him. “What do you mean?” What did he know?

“I sense that there are layers and layers to you that no one dreams could exist. You are more than a simple college girl, my dear. It could take someone a lifetime to explore the real you.”

Was this a marriage proposal? “Really?”

“I think it is time you moved into my apartment.”

“Live together?”

He laughed “You want to seem so sophisticated, my dear, but sometimes you can be so naive.”

She wouldn’t let her disappointment show. “I’ll think about it, Eric. After all, you wouldn’t appreciate anything that came too easily to you, would you?”

He threw back his head with laughter. “You are a pet, a lady of a thousand surprises. Come, let us go to the concert and turn a few hundred heads there, too.”

Eric knew exactly what he was doing. He preened as he led Barbara from the dance floor and noted the look of envy on the faces of other men.

Barbara was humiliated, but thought she was getting what she deserved. She’d never been lucky with men, but it might not be as bad as it seemed. Eric could be merely testing her. He said she had hidden depths. She knew he did. That was one thing that bothered her about the artsy, sophisticated types found on college campuses. What was really real about them?

The concert would be held in the football stadium. Barbara felt more at home there under the stars.

And when the band began playing and Brad began singing, Barbara lost herself in the music. At first she feared she would freeze up, but she let herself drift impersonally with the music. It became a part of her. She forgot she’d ever known the singer Brad and became one with the audience.

“This is wonderful!” she shouted to Eric.

“You do seem to be in your element!” he shouted back.

Barbara enjoyed the show until the music slowed and Brad came to the microphone softly strumming his guitar.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to slow things down a mite right now. You’ve heard my band. You know what they can do. You’ve heard my singers. Well, folks, they’re a great group. But once, there was another person who appeared with us. She called herself Bambi Love, and we let her sing backup.”

The stadium exploded with applause and cheers. Brad walked around the stage with his head demurely down while he received the accolades.

Oh, no, Barbara thought. Who would’ve thought he’d drag up this song? But she should have known better. It was the closest Brad had come to having a hit record.

The wave of applause quieted.

Brad started talking into he microphone again. “Bambi and I fell in love. But I didn’t know the treasure I possessed until Bambi disappeared. She’s never returned, but I know somewhere out there, Bambi is listening. Bambi, darlin’, this is for you.”

Brad plinked a few simple notes on the guitar, and the audience went wild, except for Barbara who stiffened. Could she listen to him again when she knew how meaningless the words were?

Bambi, don’t you cry for me.  
Why should we be apart?  
But if you choose to not return,  
Your love’s inside my heart.

Barbara grimaced. Once she had loved him. Perhaps she still did.

“Do you need a hankie?”

“It’s just, the words--”

“Don’t be ashamed. There’s lots of other girls weeping over the lyrics.” He helped her mop her face.

The applause was tremendous, but Barbara was still upset. Eric led her toward a concession stand.

“Come on. You need a break. That was pretty emotional. I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“I’m sorry I came apart like that.”

“That’s what saves you for me, my darling. You can swap bullshit with the best of them on a college campus, yet you get all teary-eyed over some corny song. It gives you depth and makes you utterly, utterly fascinating.”

“I suppose I should thank you for that compliment.”

Music had started for a fast song and the crowd in the football stadium cheered.

Eric frowned and stopped Barbara under a harsh light. “Sometimes I think I’d like to know what the real you really is like.” He shrugged. “Then it passes.”

You bastard, her eyes said. And for the second time that night she felt real passion for him. Why was that condescension from him such a turn-on? 

He saw it, too, but led her forward. “Come on, sweets. There’s someone you have to meet now.”

They were swallowed up in darkness as he stopped at a door under the stadium. A dressing room?

“What--”

Light blinded her as Eric held a door open.

“Here’s an old friend of yours, Barbara. I hope you have a joyous reunion.”

Dusty Aaron, Barbara’s old enemy from California, stepped forward. “Hello, Barbara. Or, should I say, Bambi Love?”

“Eric? You?! You did this?! How did you know?”

“Your lovely voice, my dear. It could only belong to Bambi Love. You’re back where you belong now with people who miss you.”

“You romantic bastard! The song’s a fake! How much did Dusty pay you?”

“Enough. Enough so I can leave this tin horn school.”

“And I know what you got! Thirty pieces of silver!”

“How dramatic, my dear. And how cheap.”

“You’re scum!”

“And you are a bitch.” His smirk was worse than a slap. “But not a bad lay.”

She drew back to slap him, but he grabbed her arm. “No, my pet. That would be so common. Don’t act so crushed about this, Barbara. We got what we wanted out of each other. Except for the wedding band and the respectability, of course.” He held her arm as she struggled to slap him again. “I knew what you really wanted from me. You expected to screw your way to the altar with me. It wasn’t such a bad plan. Women have used it for centuries.” He released her arm and she straightened herself. “I’m pretty low in your opinion right now. I think we both reached new depths of shallowness.” He frowned as he studied her. “Too bad. You might not be so bad as a permanent partner if you ever learn to commit yourself to someone. And you thought I was the only asshole in our relationship, didn’t you? There’s a central core of ice in you that can’t be thawed. I hope that someday you’ll allow that to happen. At least for the sake of the other people who might have genuine feelings about you. As for me, I’ve had enough frostbite to last me awhile.” He breathed deeply. “Too bad.” He turned his head slightly. “All right, Mr. Aaron. She’s all yours.”

“Eric, you don’t know what you’re doing! Don’t leave me with him!”

“Frankly, I don’t care what business you have with Mr. Aaron. But my advice to you is to get it finished, and then you both can go on with your lives. Goodbye, my dear. It has been instructive.” He headed for the door.

“Eric!”

The door closed on Eric Riley.

“He won’t help you, Bambi. It’s just you and me now. And it’s time to settle your debts with me.”


	16. Chapter 16

“You’re crazy! We both know that money belonged to me. I needed to realize some profit on my investment,” Barbara said as she edged toward the door. “The band was making money, but I wasn’t seeing much of it. Come on, Dusty. You know that I deserved getting that money back. I don’t know why you’ve carried a grudge this long.”

“It’s more than the money, Bambi. You damned near killed me with that fire extinguisher.” He shifted toward her. “I still get headaches from it.”

“I’m sorry about that, Dusty, but you were attacking me. I had to protect myself.”

“And I had to protect Brad. You were just another bimbo who could sing. And such a cruel, haughty one! First you turned me down, and then you came between him and me. He didn’t love you, not really. But your money kept the group going until his music caught on. He didn’t understand how much of a nothing you really were, but he thinks about you less now. That stupid song keeps your memory alive for him now, though. He’s still got some emotional trash for you, but he’s getting over it.”

“What do you care about Brad? You’re a leach, living on other people’s talent! Why didn’t you leave us alone? You could’ve found another singer and another group.”

“But not another Brad. I love him.”

“Of course, you do. It’s difficult to be around Brad and not like him. He’s one of those people who naturally attracts other people. I can appreciate that you’re such a loyal friend, but--”

“You don’t understand, you steely, heartless bitch! He’s special! I’m in love with Brad.” He stopped, realizing he’d said too much, and then continued less confidently. “And he loves me.” His voice slowed. “Really. Really. Loves me. We’ve--” He tossed his head, unwilling to continue, but he had to make sure she understood his meaning. “We’ve,” he added softly, but defiantly. “He knows how to treat me real special. And you can’t hurt us by trying to split us up!”

Shock waves rolled over Barbara. She’d never guessed. “W-what?! You and Brad--”

“But he cheats on me with women. You were one of the worst thorns in my side. He really didn’t love you, but he enjoyed taunting me with you.” Dusty frowned. “He doesn’t realize how deeply my feelings go. I’d do anything to protect him.”

“You were the one who turned me into the police when I was high on drugs!”

“I thought you’d get detoxed and go away. But you came back to the group. You came back for Brad and the money. I wanted to kill you.” He stepped toward her. “I still want to kill you.”

Fear gripped Barbara. “I’m not the only one responsible for this mess!”

“I know, but it’s time you started paying for your share of it. I’ve suffered alone long enough.”

She darted for the door, but he grabbed her.

“Let me go!”

“Struggle, you bitch. Scream if you want. Nobody can hear you down here.”

“You’ll go to prison for this!”

“Maybe. But it won’t be for murder. I don’t want you dead. I hate you too much for that. It’d be a pleasure to snuff you out of existence, but I’m not going to give up more of my life because of you. But I want my revenge. I NEED my revenge. I deserve it. No, I’m going to make you feel as helpless and as violated as I’ve felt. I’m going to speak to you in the only language you’ll understand.” He lifted her off her feet and dragged her across the room.

She struggled and kicked, but was no equal to his greater strength.

Dusty pushed her head down sharply and shoved her body against the wall. Her shoulders and neck were wedged firmly, and her chest was pushing against her throat and cutting off her air supply. She flailed her arms and spread her legs which helped her air and balance, but not her situation. She heard and felt her slit skirt rip and then tear as his hand seized it and flung its tatters over her back. Only the narrow band of her panties hid the sight of her spread open crotch from his fevered eyes, and that flimsy barrier would exist only as long as it would take for Dusty to rip it away.

“You bitch! You make me do this! Rot in hell!” He sobbed. “Forgive me, Mother. I mean no disrespect to women.”

She could hear the tears in his voice, but her main concern was with herself. Whether he meant to rape her or sodomize her, she had to keep breathing. He could crush her wind pipe with one lusty lunge.

Dusty hooked his index finger in her panties and tugged them aside. In a moment, Barbara would be thoroughly exposed, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to help herself. A wave of repulsion washed over her, and her smothered scream was little more than a harsh rasp.

The door swung open.

“Dusty is around her somewhere, Professor. I’m sure he’ll be interested in your proposition.”

Dead quiet rang through the room.

“Dusty?! What in the hell are you doing?! Let that poor girl up!”

Dusty released his hold and backed away.

“It’s nothing, Brad--”

Brad frowned. “What do you mean, nothing? You got her opened up like the L.A. Airport ready for a busy day. Were you checking to see if she had an express runway?” 

Even in her ungainly position, Barbara felt laughter seize her. Despite this serious situation, Brad’s vulgar side was appearing, and she was responding.

Brad pushed past Dusty to help Barbara straighten up. “Are you all right, miss?”

Blood rushed to her head and she felt faint. “Oh!” She reached out for support.

Brad grabbed her arm and held it. “Here. You better sit down.”

“No, I’m all right. Just give me a minute.” Barbara closed her eyes and rubbed the top of her shoulders. She’d bruise and be sore for days.

Brad glared at Dusty. “Just what in the hell was going on here?”

“But this is the girl!” declared a new voice.

Barbara opened her eyes. “Professor Crandall?”

Crandall stepped forward. He was still shaken from the sight of a nearly bare butt and spread open crotch thrust in his face. “This is the girl I was telling you about, Mr. Barlow. She’s a marvelous singer.”

Brad smiled at Barbara. “For the sake of not wanting to embarrass Miss Crider, I could also say she has other marvelous attributes.” His smile was as engaging as ever. “Your professor wanted to arrange an audition for you, but they’re generally conducted more conventionally.” He frowned and turned. “Dusty, you have some explaining to do. Why were you treating this young lady so roughly? Did you think she was an intruder?”

Dusty stammered, and Barbara realized anything he said would expose more of a mess than what was already known. She and Brad and Dusty had been hurt enough. The whole truth would only cause more heartache.

“I guess it’s my fault, Mr. Barlow,” Barbara said. “I sneaked back here where I really didn’t belong and got caught. Do I get shot for trespassing?” she asked brightly.

Brad threw back his head and laughed. “No. But if you really wanted to meet me, you should have let your professor intervened for you.”

Barbara arched an eyebrow at Crandall. “And my professor should’ve told me he was intervening for me.”

Crandall sighed and turned aside.

Brad drew his arm around Barbara’s shoulders. “If you’re half as good a singer as Professor Crandall claims, I’ll be happy to have you audition for me. Tomorrow morning, say?” He gave her a warm, charming smile.

Barbara remembered his warm, charming smile. She also remembered what could happen at his auditions.

She slipped away from his arm. “Thank you, Mr. Barlow, I’ll have Professor Crandall get in touch with you. He accompanies me to all of my auditions.”

Professor Crandall hid his surprise, but not before Brad saw it. A twinkle came into Brad’s eyes and he grinned. Then he sobered into thoughtfulness and stared at Barbara. There was something about this girl--

“Have we met before, Miss Crider?”

“Has this Barbara Crider ever met this Brad Barlow? I think not, Mr. Barlow.”

He squeezed her hand. “That is my misfortune.” He smiled warmly. “Call for your audition. Please.” His eyes asked her to come to the audition alone.

She slipped out of his grasp. “Thank you, Mr. Barlow. Professor Crandall, would you give me a lift home? My escort seems to have gotten separated from me.”

Brad stepped forward. “If you would care to be my personal guest for the rest of the concert, I could see you home later.”

“No, thank you, Mr. Barlow. Any auditioning I’ll save for tomorrow.”

Brad threw back his head and laughed. “You’ve got the fast lip of a California girl. You’d fit right into our group.” He frowned. “In fact--”

“Come on, Professor Crandall.”

Brad offered his hand to Crandall. “Thank you for a most unique experience. I can’t remember any introduction being handled in quite the same manner.”

“It really was none of my doing,” Crandall muttered.

Brad laughed, then took Barbara’s hand. “You’ll have to forgive my levity at your expense. But it was really impersonal, after all. One tush looks like any other.”

Brad’s vulgar side was showing. It’d always inspired Barbara. A taste for blatant vulgarity was one passion they’d shared.

She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “If that’s true, I’ll have you three guys drop your pants, and I’ll compare. Except, I want front views, too. That will be the real test.”

Brad burst into peals of laughter while Dusty and Crandall looked puzzled.

Barbara took Crandall’s arm. “Shall we?” she asked smoothly and very ladylike. As she walked past Dusty, she saw the look of hatred on his face. She’d saved him when he couldn’t possibly give Brad any explanation of his behavior toward her, but now she’d dropped enough clues for even the simplest person to guess her identity. Brad wasn’t always the quickest to grasp a situation.

She couldn’t avoid the temptation to be plainer. “What say, ducks?” she asked in her fake British accent. “How far can you Tipperary?”

Brad’s laughter cut off suddenly, and he whirled to stare at her in the doorway. “Bambi?!”

Barbara felt Crandall stiffen and pull back to look at her, but she kept her eyes levelly on Brad. “Bambi’s gone, Brad. We killed her, you and I. She couldn’t exist in the real world anymore. Unlike Peter Pan, she had to grow up.”

“I need to talk to you--”

“Dusty can tell you everything.”

Brad glared at Dusty. “What did you do to her?!”

“Don’t blame him too much, Brad. He’s been hurt, too. He put your interests before his own, and that makes him the best friend you’ll ever have. Hell isn’t always being away from someone. It’s harder to be nearby, but taken for granted. You‘ve hurt him bad, Brad, and you need to make amends with him before you lose him.”

Brad frowned sternly at Dusty who turned aside to wipe away his tears. Brad softened. “Hey,” he murmured and put his hand on Dusty’s shoulder. “I didn’t realize I was hurting you. Come on. You know I couldn’t get along without you. Don’t you?”

The worry in Brad’s voice caused Dusty to look up. His eyes were shining. After a moment, he nodded his head.

Brad pulled Dusty into his arms and took a deep breath. “Sweetheart. I'm sorry, Baby. My sweet baby. Say you'll forgive your daddy who is so very, very sorry,” he softly crooned in Dusty's ear.

Dusty grabbed Brad as hard as he could and burst into sobs.

Crandall closed the door on the scene. “Let’s give them their privacy." He frowned. "I suppose I’d better not think too much about what went on in there earlier.” He shucked his jacket and drew it around Barbara’s shoulders.

Band music was playing loudly from the football field, but stragglers at the concession stand were staring at Barbara’s torn dress.

“It’ll take awhile to get over what I saw,” Crandall said as he guided Barbara. “My eyes may never heal.”

“You’ll be the most unscathed one to walk out of that room tonight. It’s in your best interests to stay that way.”

Crandall arched an eyebrow as they wove their way through the thinning crowd to the parking lot. “In other words, mind my own business.”

“However you want to interpret it, Professor.”

He held the door of his car open for her. “Just one question: Are you the heroine of that insipid song? Are you Bambi Love?”

“That’s two questions,” she answered as she slid over the car seat. “Actually, I guess you’re right. It is only one.”

He started the car. “Well?”

“My voice ranges over three octaves. So did Bambi’s. But I think I’m a better person than she was. Of course, I‘m wiser now than she was.”

Crandall pulled his car into the street. “You’re the closest I’ve come to knowing a celebrity.”

Was he going to turn into something common now like an adoring fan? “I told you that you would recognize the name I went by and the group I sang with.”

“So you did. I never quite believed you, though.”

“So, do you want my autograph or maybe a photo taken with me?”

The frown in his voice was evident. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Somehow, she felt relieved. “Nothing. Just being an asshole.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “At least you learned something from me.”

“No, that honor goes to Eric Riley.”

“I thought you and Riley were an item.”

“So did I.” Barbara settled against the seat and relaxed. “No, he’s the one who discovered who I was and turned me over to Dusty Aaron. Dusty and I had problems going way back. Dusty was jealous of me, for one thing.”

“Because of Brad Barlow.” He turned toward Barbara. “You slept with Barlow then?”

“I’ve slept with lots of guys.” She yawned. Why was this conversation making her so sleepy?

“Including Eric Riley.”

“That chicken shit!”

Crandall laughed with surprise. “I thought that was my official title on this campus.”

“You’re not sneaky with it. Everyone knows at the start of school what an asshole you can be.”

“A new title!”

“Don’t patronize me, Professor. I need a friend tonight, not a saber fight with words.”

“Words can be a protection, Barbara. Maybe I feel a little naked around regular people.”

“You feel naked?! How do you suppose I felt with my bare ass thrust up in air?”

Crandall laughed and beat his hand on the steering wheel. “Well, at least it wasn’t surprise you felt. I had claim to all that reaction in that room.” He glanced at her again. “I’d love to know the sequence of events that led up to your awkward position, but I suppose that’s something my mind will have to construct.”

“You’re right, buster.”

He knew she couldn’t see his grin, but possibly she could hear it in his voice. “The view gave me a jolt all over, Miss Crider. ALL over. I’m still feeling the affects. Want to feel? It’s quite prominent.”

She slowly turned her head and glared at him. She knew he couldn’t see her glare in the darkness, but perhaps he could hear it in her voice. “That’s YOUR problem, Professor.”

He turned his grin to oncoming traffic. “Brad Barlow was right. You do talk like a California girl.”

“Something wrong with that?”

“I just wondered if you wouldn’t be happier being a California girl again?”

Tiredness crept over her again. “I’ve wondered that myself.”

“This isn’t the place for you. You’re not living; you’re existing here.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” he said so wistfully that he startled both of them. The car was quiet for a few moments. “We’re nearly at your aunt’s house now.”

“I don’t want to go there. I’ll never be able to explain my neck bruises to her. And someone should look at them.”

“I can drive you to the emergency room at the hospital.”

“Why go to that much bother? You can look at them.”

“Barbara--”

“You don’t charge much for a house call, do you?”

“Barbara, you know what would happen if I look at your neck.”

“You’d lose your medical license?”

“Don’t tease. If you go home with me tonight, we’ll wind up in bed together.”

“Would that be so terrible?” she asked breathlessly.

“Of course not! But, have you thought this through?”

“No. But some of my greatest adventures have started spontaneously.”

He shifted nervously. “You had a traumatic experience at the concert. You’re not thinking clearly. I’m not taking advantage of someone in your condition.”

“Shut up, Professor. I’m not the one in danger of being raped around here. Relax. I’ll let you loose at sunrise. Your honor will be intact.”

“Barbara--”

“You won’t be taking advantage of me. Honest. Besides, I know how kinky the sex life of college professors can get.”

“Yes, I suppose Eric Riley is some sort of pervert.”

“I asked for that one, didn’t I? No, Professor, I’m talking about you. I’m calling your bluff. You give great hints in class. Now I want to see how you deal the cards.”

“About as normally as a brick layer or a grocer does, I’m afraid.”

“You’re teasing.”

“What did you expect I’d do with you?! Shove your face down in a pillow and screw that fine ass of yours?! I’m no shit fucker, Miss Crider!”

Silence rang between them.

“Then I suppose we’ll just have to do it the normal way, won’t we?” Barbara said quietly.

“I’m not going to win this argument, am I?” he said in a weak voice.

“Lose the battle, win the war,” she said softly. “We’ll both come out on top.”

“Not the way I do things,” he growled. “I’m old-fashioned. The man’s on top, missionary style.”

Barbara laughed. “Whatever turns you on, Professor.” She reached toward him and heard him gasp. “You weren’t lying, were you? Seeing my bare ass really did excite you. Perhaps other exhibits can be arranged.”

Sweat popped out on Crandall’s forehead, and he wet his lips with his tongue. He hoped he survived the night.

 

The next morning, they awoke to the coffee perking automatically for them. They sipped it as they lay in bed.

“I have a daughter about your age, Barbara. She’s married and living in Miami. I’m a grandfather.”

“You’re not talking me out of this affair, Professor. I had me a fine, high time last night; and I don’t intend to give that up any time soon.” She ran her hand down his hairy arm. “We just got started on our homework.” She set aside her coffee cup. “Let’s play THE HUNGARIAN RHAPSODY this time.”

“My God, girl, have some pity,” he said with a groan. But he set aside his coffee cup, too, and his face got a leer on it. “How about THE ANVIL CHORUS?”

She giggled and pulled him toward her.

 

“How about the rest of your family?” she asked as they woofed down scrambled eggs in the square of sunlight on the hardwood floor. They were buck naked.

“I have a wife, of course. She’s the one that had this skylight put in. That was back in her Bohemian Phase. She thought she was going to be a great painter.” He licked his fork thoughtfully. “I wondered when we’d get around to talking about her.”

“What’s her name?”

“Cil. Short for Lucille. She hates the name Lucille.”

“Where is she?” Barbara asked as she looked around as if she thought the lady in question would appear simply because she was being talked about. “Will she walk in and catch us au naturale? Will she be properly scandalized and divorce you?

“Of course not. She’s on an archaeological dig in Peru. She likes to think of herself as some sort of crusading missionary, too. But she’s not lonely. There’s a couple of research assistants with her to keep both sides of her warm. The three of them give a whole new meaning to missionary style, I understand.”

She studied the frown on his face. “You don’t approve of what she’s doing, then?”

He sniffed. “These are modern times. Of course, I approve. I just don’t have to like it, that’s all.”

“Poor Frederick.”

“I don’t care what people say, it still smarts when my wife feels free to screw anything she wishes. Perhaps that’s because I was screwing anything I wanted long before she started. She began fooling around to get back at me, and then she did it because she liked it. Our daughter thinks we’re both crazy. Nancy is such a prig, though.”

“I assume yours is an open marriage, then.”

“About as open as it can get. But if Cil returns from Peru, she’ll be the only woman in the house. That’s our one rule. We do make a farce of living, but we must keep up appearances. Comprende?”

“Compendo mucho.” she leaned back on her elbows. “But there’s all that time until she returns.” She lifted her eyebrow. “Comprende?”

“Mucho,” he murmured and nuzzled against her.

The platter of scrambled eggs got upset. Neither of the people noticed.

 

In the end, they would part amiably. Neither party had expected much from their little affair, except casual sex, and neither was disappointed. They were acquaintances, but didn’t bind each other to a cloning friendship. The break, when it eventually would come, would be clean.

Barbara wished she could say the same about other ties she’d made. Away from her professor, she realized how disruptive she’d been to other people’s lives. Guilt often plagued her and she wondered if she could ever form a lasting relationship with anyone. What was wrong with her, anyway?

Of all the men who haunted her, two were particularly poignant. The lives of Miles, the television star, and Ray, the cowboy, had both been changed by her, and she knew she had hurt them. How could she have done that? They were nice guys.

Sometimes the guilt was particularly scathing, and she would symbolically beat her breast until it was bloody. 

What kind of person was she, anyway?


	17. Chapter 17

Barbara wandered aimlessly over the campus and then through the streets of Colden, Pennsylvania. To be so betrayed by Eric when she thought she had found the perfect man for herself! To learn that neither Brad nor Dusty were as innocent or as guilty as she’d imagined! To learn that she’d unwittingly hurt all of them, too. Was that what acquaintances did to each other? Were strangers the only people who could be trusted with emotions?

Streets went by, neighborhoods went by, and still she walked. Time meant nothing to her, but Aunt Rose would begin to worry. At least, one person was still her friend.

Barbara was turning into Aunt Rose’s front gate when insistent honking attracted her attention. She stared at the old pickup that seemed so out of place parked along the street in front of Aunt Rose‘s house, but it looked familiar. Then she saw the Montana license plate.

“Ray?” She hurried to the vehicle. “My God, where did you come from?!”

“Where the hell you been? Thought you never would come home to roost.”

He was as ugly and weather-beaten as ever, but the age creases were deeper around his eyes and he looked surly as hell.

“You’re in Pennsylvania? I don’t believe it. Is Tommy here, too?”

“Tommy thinks I’m in Denver. This is between you and me, girl.”

A numbness seeped into her, and she nodded. 

He squinted as he nodded toward the house. “Nice house. You the heir?”

She shook her head, still too numb to speak.

“Go throw some duds in a sack. We’ll be gone for a few days.”

She didn’t argue; she could only nod and stare at him. She realized she’d been waiting years for his appearance. Finally, she managed to clear her throat.

“Come talk to my aunt while I pack.”

“No, thanks. I done met Miss Twiddies. Wonder you ain’t nuts from talking to her. She doesn’t welcome you. She just kinda sucks you in.”

Her smile was brief and without warmth. “I won’t be long.” She squinted into the afternoon sun as she hurried up the sidewalk.

As promised, she wasn’t long. He slouched against the pickup, waiting for her. He tossed her duffel bag in the back and opened the door for her.

“You’re still the ugliest man I’ve ever seen.”

He grinned viciously. “Yeah, but I’ve got a beautiful soul.” He’d mellowed. Maybe the golden light of the setting sun had tamed him.

“Is that what I’ve got, too, Ray? Is that what you see?”

“Let’s not start shoveling bull to each other.” He hoisted her into the pickup. “At least it’d be beautiful, if it wasn’t so battered.”

“Where are we going?” she asked as they drove through the suburbs.

“How the hell should I know? This is your part of the country, not mine. Where do you say?”

“Philadelphia. You should see Philadelphia.”

“Philadelphia, it is.” He paused. “Where the hell is it? Pennsylvania, I know. But I need more directions than that.”

She felt the first humor in days. “Head south. I’ll direct you.”

He glanced at her. “You look better than when you came home. Your mouth was dragging on the sidewalk.”

“I was pretty miserable. I was grieving for lost friendship. Some guys showed up from my California days, and it wasn’t very pleasant. How did you find me, anyway?”

“The same way those other guys did. Well, really, I hunted them down in California, and then I followed them and the rest of that musical bunch to here.” 

“You were at the concert?”

“Yeah. I’m starting to be a real groupie.” He grinned without humor at his own joke.

“But how did you ever connect me with the Report Card?”

“That was Dwight’s idea. He told me about your last visit to Morley when that magazine article and that song bothered you so much. He said it didn’t take no genius to see that record shook you clear down to your heels.”

“You guys were taking quite a long shot, weren’t you?”

“It was the only lead we had. Dwight got obsessed with the idea that you were Bambi Love. He said you had to be that dame, but you sure as hell didn’t look like those pictures of her. Then we realized that guy singing the song didn’t know what Bambi Love looked like, either. I went down to LA, did some snooping around, and learned that Brad guy was still clueless. I went back home and waited. I knew sooner or later he’d get a lead on your whereabouts and would hunt you up. I’d just track him, not you. Then, he took out on a college tour out East, and so did I. He’d never done nothing like that before. I figured he must have some reason besides music.” Ray glanced at her.

“How’d you slip up and let him know where you were?”

“It was his manager, Dusty Aaron, who learned where I was, not Brad.” She breathed deeply. “Dusty had his own reasons for finding me. He’d been contacted by a man here on campus that I trusted. Because of my voice, he guessed who I was and betrayed me.”

“His loss.”

“My loss, too. I thought I’d found a safe port.”

“You ain’t lost much, girl. He ain’t worth having.”

“It still hurts, Ray. So many men have hurt me.”

“Don’t bawl on my shoulder. You’ve probably gotten your licks in on them, too. Maybe even on some you don’t realize.”

“Is that your mission, Ray? Revenge? Was Tommy hurt very much when I disappeared?”

“He healed. He’s chasing other skirts now. So revenge isn’t my mission. At least, not for Tommy’s sake. There was more than one man out on that ranch, missy. We have some unfinished business.”

“You’re wrong, you know.”

His glance was scathing. “And you’re lying. You felt it, too, same as me. We both felt it, and neither one of us liked it very much. But that didn’t make it go away none.”

“Then why didn’t you fight for me?”

“Because I was stupid. I let honor and loyalty get in my way, and I should have fought tooth and nail for you, even if Tommy was my nephew.”

“I told you before that I was interested in your soul as will as your heart. I don’t want you to compromise yourself.”

“There’s no problem with Tommy anymore.” He glanced at her. “Now we just have to find out if there’s something to fight for.”

“Are you hoping there is still something between us?”

“I don’t know.” He glared at her. “I just have to know one way or the other.”

“You came clear across the country just to screw me?”

“Yeah, I know. Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

“But, why?”

“Hell, I don’t know! I don’t even particularly like you.”

“To prove a point?”

“Maybe.”

“Cussed stubbornness?”

He glared at her. “Maybe. It’s something that’s been gnawing at me for a long time. You won’t give my any peace, girl,” he said softly. “I have a feeling that I ain’t never going to be over you.”

She turned and stared out the window at lights flying past in the night. Then she realized that she was flying past, and they were standing still. 

Still, the odyssey rolls on.

 

Ray squinted down the late hour streets of Philadelphia. “What the hell did you want to see in this town, anyway? Everything’s closed up.”

“Independence Hall. The Liberty Bell. Betsy Ross’s House.”

“Just like a goddamn tourist. Well, those places won’t be open until morning. Hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Not really. This was just a place to head for.”

“Want to grab a bite to eat and hole up here?”

“Not here.”

“You let me know when you see the right spot. I ain’t in no hurry, either.”

“But you followed me--”

“Some things a person does because he wants to, others because he thinks he has to, others because he has no choice. This situation is sorta in that last category. I don’t like it when I’m not in control.”

“Well, I don’t, either.”

“I know. It’s the goddamn animal in us. A part that ain’t never been tamed, and never will be.”

“Maybe we could stop for supper. Nothing else, for now.” She saw Ray frown and understood his frustration. This was a chapter in their lives that had to be played out, but neither was relishing it.

The truck stop on the south edge of Philadelphia was cheap and the plain food was wholesome, but uninteresting. The clock read not quite 11 p.m. when they climbed back into the pickup and headed toward Delaware.

After midnight Ray began to yawn.

“This old cowboy generally goes to bed with the chickens.”

“Pull over and I’ll drive.”

Ray curled up in the corner, pulled his hat low over his eyes, and went to sleep.

Barbara drove through the quiet Maryland night. She knew the ocean was very near now. She could feel it off her left hand. Water was to her right, also. That would be Chesapeake Bay. She knew that soon the land would narrow near the Cape Charles Lighthouse, and the road would disappear into a tunnel under Chesapeake Bay. It was best that Ray wasn’t awake to see them go under the water. Someone used to the open plains might get claustrophobic going under that much water.

When she emerged from the tunnel, the lights of Norfolk, Virginia, engulfed her. Ray stirred and they stopped for gas and coffee. Ray curled up and went to sleep again.

Barbara skirted the Great Dismal Swamp and entered North Carolina. The night and Barbara were great friends by now.

 

The rising sun oozed out of the Atlantic Ocean and awakened Ray who squinted against its brightness. He pulled himself into a sitting position in the parked pickup and blinked at the desert of sand and ocean before them.

“Where the hell are we, missy?”

Barbara was staring calmly at the water. “The beach.”

“But, what beach? Do you have any idea what state we’re in?”

“Carolina.”

“Which one? There’s two of them.”

She finally looked at him. “Does it make any difference?”

“I guess not.” He glanced at her glassy-eyed expression. “Have you slept any?”

“I will, later.”

He frowned. “It’s gonna be a pleasure doing business with you, too, I can tell,” he grumbled.

She looked him fully in the eyes. “I won’t disappoint you.”

“Look, Amy, or Bambi, or whatever the hell you call yourself, you don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.”

“I’m Barbara, but call me Amy since that’s what you’re used to. And you’re mistaken, Ray. I want to, you know, do it with you. I always have. That one night and next morning with you only whetted my appetite. I think you liked it, too. And I think you want a repeat.”

Ray couldn’t argue her logic. He was amazed at the thrill of excitement that touched him. It was the first time he’d considered that this experience might be pleasurable. He just wished it had less of an air of fatalism about it.

She settled back against the pickup seat and stared out at the waves rolling in off the ocean. “But wanting doesn’t make it right. I feel like we’re lighting a charge of dynamite.”

“That makes two of us.”

She glanced at him. “But we owe it to ourselves to find out.”

There, that thrill was back.

Ray settled against the seat and looked out to sea, also. To have her voice their ambivalent feelings made the object of their journey a sweet agony. But it was an agony made sweeter knowing it would happen. When it would happen, was the question now.

“Are there any sort of bathroom facilities around here?” he asked.

“Back behind us close to the road. This must be some sort of park.”

He opened the door. “I’ll find it.”

When he returned. “This is the spot?”

The pickup was parked on a dirt ridge overlooking the beach. A small bank had to be scrambled down to reach the sand. The whole landscape looked about as forlorn as some Montana prairie. But it had a whole lot more water near it.

She nodded.

“Why?”

“Nobody will come around.”

“That’s because they’re smart. This isn‘t exactly a real swanky area.” He got out of the pickup again. “I’ll take the blankets and the lean-to down to the beach.”

“I want the lean-to open to the ocean.”

“Whatever the Duchess wants,” he mumbled as he pulled gear out of the back of the truck, “the Duchess gets.”

In a few minutes he had the lean-to braced in the sand. Barbara slid down the bank and surveyed the flapping tarp critically.

“It looks adequate for our purposes.” She started to unbutton her blouse. “Well, we might as well get to it.”

“Don’t hurry on my account.”

“Let’s not start playing games now, Ray. Being coy isn’t your strong suit. Being straight forward is, and maybe that dumb, country boy routine.”

“That’s the way I am, missy.”

“Whatever. You’ve come a long ways for this event. You might as well get your money’s worth.”

“WE’VE come a long ways, missy! I didn’t kidnap you.”

She seemed almost bored. “No, you didn’t.”

They removed their clothing and stowed it safely near the lean-to. The sun warmed their bodies, but they took no particular interest in their nakedness. They stretched out on their sides on the blankets under the flapping lean-to and waited for inspiration.

“Might as well get to it,” Ray mumbled as he put a rough hand on her bare back and drew her towards him. His mouth was as hard and uncompromising as hers.

How they ever got themselves excited was a mystery. Every move was a challenge, every caress was spiteful. Touches were harsh and demanding, nearly crude. Mutual pleasure was not their goal as they strove to mock the bodily weakness that they found in each other and to hide their own passion.

But then Nature took over. At last excited, Barbara pulled at the blankets while Ray sought to smooth them and yet maintain his primary rhythm. Ray thought she was trying to get away from him, but she was seeking freedom. Freedom from restraints. She wanted the sun on her skin and sand under her body.

Barbara lashed out and sent the lean-to flying. The sun struck them full-force and they were exposed for all the world to see, if anyone chose to look.

“Stupid bitch! What are you doing?”

But Barbara continued to struggle until she had the blankets in a wad.

“Get them, away!” she gasped.

With a raking hand, Ray sent them sailing.

Barbara felt her buttocks sink into the obliging sand. Its warmth cradled her. She felt the warmth spread through her body. She laughed deeply in her throat and crossed her legs over Ray’s back.

Ray felt himself sink into her expanding softness and shivered with this show of femininity. He’d chased her across the United States to master her sexually, and now she was mastering him. And he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind.

His lips found her throat and she gasped again. He could feel her hardened nipples scraping his chest and her busy hands fluttering over a dozen places on his body. She moaned and tore at her hair. She was no longer pretending, and he was drawn to her as never before.

“I ain’t never kissed you proper.”

“Not now! For Christ’s sakes, not now!” And she wouldn’t allow it.

She sobbed and twisted, and he finally lifted her body and arched it against his. His head was between her undulating breasts, but his mind was on his index finger. He’d smoothed sand off her buttock, then had discovered her anus exposed by legs drawn around his waist. He worked his finger into that unprotected opening and plunged into volcanic heat.

Barbara gasped and tried to escape the boring finger. It hurt, and the clinging sand on it rasped delicate tissues. But pleasant sensations began to radiate from that sensitive area, and she arched her back to welcome them. She was in misery and exquisite pleasure. Release was all she desired, but she was not going to cheat herself out of one moment of this experience.

Ray thrust forward with one final, mighty heave.

Barbara screamed her pleasure and fainted.

 

The lean-to flapped over them again. Ray sat hunched over, watching Barbara’s body as she rested on her stomach. He was remembering how she’d clung to him in sleep and how he’d hovered over her to protect her. Such trust and concern were as thrilling as their mutual sexual surrender had been.

“Never thought it’d end up like that.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “You know. What we did.”

Barbara rubbed her face on her arm and glanced back at Ray. “It is called love making, you know, not hate reinforcing.”

“I know, but--”

“I’ll agree. If we wouldn’t have tossed some coals in the fire, the show would’ve been a bust. And what would we’ve had for our effort except a long drive in the dark?”

“It was good, missy.” He wiped sand off her buttock and squeezed the fat between his fingers. “I didn’t expect it to be quite that good.”

“I keep my promises, cowboy. You just didn’t know if you could trust me. See what happens when you throw caution to the wind?” She smiled. “I love it when you blush like that. Who would have thought you could? Despite your outward bluster, you always hold yourself in, don’t you?” She leaned over and kissed the top of his sandy foot. “I like it when you loosen up and run on pure feeling. You’re like putty in my hands.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, not exactly putty.”

She laughed. “And I love it when you say naughty things like that!”

He blushed. “There I did it again, didn’t I?”

“Clear across your shoulders, cowboy! We never had a problem with the physical part. Sparks flew between us almost from the first. It’s the other, the emotional side, that’s hounded us.”

Ray nodded slowly. “It’s driven me clear across a country.” He nodded upward. “It, and that old pickup standing guard duty over us.”

Barbara grinned. “I didn’t know you were a comedian.”

Ray sobered. “I’m not.” He frowned. “I hated you, you know,” Ray said in a monotone voice, as if he was trying not to reveal the depth of his feelings. “Or at least I thought I should. It got easier after you left and finding you looked hopeless. I couldn’t understand how you could leave and hurt Tommy so much by not facing him with the truth. But he was young. He recovered. I wasn’t so lucky. I kept thinking of the loving we’d shared, and I longed to have you back in my arms. Everything had been new to us, and we hadn’t had time to get bored with each other. You were an unfinished chapter and became a festering wound to me. I was all torn up by the hating and the wanting, and I couldn’t say anything to Tommy about it. Thank goodness Dwight was there to listen to me.”

Barbara looked up. “You and Dwight made your peace then?”

“That’s the one good thing that came out of this whole sorry mess. Dwight said you might’ve had another reason for leaving, that you were feeling pressure from your past. I told him how odd you acted when you heard someone called Bambi Love singing on the radio. I thought that it was the song that reminded you that Tommy could be straying. Instead, it was the singer and the search going on for her that was the problem. Of course, we didn’t figure that much out until way later.” Ray took a deep breath. “I even told Dwight that I’d once searched your belongings and found your money.”

Barbara looked at him sharply. “You what?!”

“It was an accident. But I never once believed you were a thief. All I could think was that you were running from some kind of trouble. I should’ve been more supportive. Dwight was. When he came home and first found you, he tried to become your friend so he could help you. He accepted you at face value.” He frowned. “Then I came crashing back like some goddamn bull gone berserk and ruined everything.”

“Ray--”

“But I was hurting when I got back from Denver. I’d had a week of berating myself about being disloyal to Tommy. My heart felt like a piece of raw meat left exposed to the elements. For no matter how I examined the situation, I found myself thinking of you as more than a friend. On my way back, my problem was whether I should admit my feelings for you, or keep my mouth shut. Should I hurt Tommy, or myself? Then I got home and found Dwight and you acting real cozy together.”

She stirred. “That’s not--”

Ray made a shoving motion with his hands. “I know that now. But I also knew how fast Dwight could win over a woman. I couldn’t believe he was just trying to be your friend. Besides, I was seeing what I wanted to see, and you two looked damned guilty.” He frowned. “I guess it was some of my fault what happened between you two after Tommy asked you to marry him.”

“I meant to tempt you into bed again. I had no intention of seducing Dwight. I’ll never know exactly why it happened. He meant to comfort me, and we lost control. He said he was sorry, because he knew how wrought up I was.”

“He felt guilty about it. He said he hadn’t intended it to happen; it just did. After you left, I never rode him about it like I did about Ginny because I could tell he was genuinely sorry. He said that neither one of you seemed to have any control, and that much I could well understand. That’s exactly what happened between you and me after the dance. He said it was almost a gesture of friendship between you two.”

“That’s right. There was no passion between us. When I left the ranch, I said goodbye to one of the dearest friends I’ve ever known. Dwight was very special to me.”

“After you left, I punished myself for driving you away. I worried about your safety and welfare, but mostly I grieved that you were gone. I thought if I could find you, we could somehow make sense of our lives. Just so we were together. Then Dwight told me that love might not be enough for you. He said that you didn’t feel lovable, so that you could never completely trust in love.” His eyes reflected his anguish. “Can’t I change your mind on that one, girl?”

She reached up and rubbed his bare knee. “I wish you could,” she whispered. “I’m sorry you’re getting hurt by all this.”

“And I’m sorry I was so slow in figuring it out. Dwight knew you a week and found out more about you than I did in several months. I wondered what kind of dumb oaf I could possibly be for letting you get away. I ended up switching my hate from you to myself.”

She raised herself on one elbow and her forgotten breasts swung low. “No, Ray.”

“That’s why Dwight and I thought that I should try to find you. But I’ll protect myself, too. If this thing between us is just physical, at least we’ll find that much out. If it’s more, then God help us.”

Barbara hung her head.

He caressed the top of her lowered head with his hand. “If friendship was rough between us, then anything more is going to be pure hell.”

She looked back with tears in her eyes and leaned her elbow on his knee. “Ray, sweetheart, I’m sorry you’re hurting so much.”  
He smiled bitterly. “I suppose I deserve frying in Hell awhile longer. Dwight thought I should get a reprieve, though.”

“He’s right. How is he, anyway?”

Ray frowned. “He died last year.”

She stiffened. “Dwight?! Oh, Ray. Oh, Ray, I’m sorry! I’m so terribly sorry.”

“It happened in September, his favorite time of the year. The aspens were just beginning to turn golden when we buried him up in the mountains. A light snow fell that night. It looked like a protecting blanket on his grave. I knew he was happy.”

“He was a good friend,” she murmured. “I loved him very much.”

“And he loved you. But he wasn’t in love with you. And he worried about you. He worried about you. He thought there was something incomplete between us. That’s why he wanted me to find you. Later, after he died, I was too torn up to do too much of anything, so I haven’t kept my promise to him until now.”

“What happened? What killed him?”

Ray winced. “Cancer. Damned shit! He lingered and died slow. They say there’s some good comes out of everything. The only good I could see was that it gave him and me time to talk.”

“I’m thankful for that.”

“Dwight was tired when he came home that last time, the time he met you. Turned out he was more than tired. The cancer was in him then, we just didn’t know it. I looked for you, ‘cause I knew it’d give him comfort to see you. I knew you loved each other.”

“It was a different kind of love. We were immediately friends. While you and I seem to be, ah, competitors. It’s like we have to prove something to each other.”

Ray didn’t answer. He seemed to have lost the thread of their conversation and was concentrating on something else. Heat surged through her as she became aware of his fingers. They were close to her anus and she hoped he wasn’t planning on exploring it with more fingers. One finger had hurt enough.

She felt him pull one of her cheeks aside. What? No! She couldn’t take that. She wondered where a cowboy could’ve ever heard of such a thing.

But she needn’t have worried. He was simply studying her. No man, except a doctor, had ever seen that spot of her anatomy. She felt a blush envelop her whole body with its heat as his index finger delicately touched her wrinkled opening.

Then he released her cheek and slid his hand down between her parted legs. His fingers were rough, but tickled, too.

Barbara bowed her head and rubbed her face hard against her arm. “Do it to me that way, Ray. Don’t turn me over.”

“Dog style? With your tits in the sand? I ain’t never done that to a woman in my life. Besides,” he said as he rolled her over, “I want to see your eyes get all smoky when I kiss your throat. Christ Almighty! They’re smoky already. Must be something in the sand.”

She clawed at his naked back. “Yes. You!”

And then they didn’t have time for anymore conversation.


	18. Chapter 18

They lay on their sides again facing each other. Their hands gently touched and stroked flesh. They were tired, tired and comfortable, and used their hands simply for reassurance that the other one was still there. Neither was interested in stirring up any more intense passion.

“So, you want to go get something to eat?” he murmured.

“I’m not hungry.”

“It’s been since sometime last night since we ate. Starve me long enough, and I’ll be a dead man.” 

She raised her eyebrow. “Bet I could bring you back to life. At least, part of you.”

“I have no doubt you could, missy. But I bet you wouldn’t like having a dead man pumping over you.”

“Bring him on. I’ll try him.” She nodded toward her gear. “I brought some fruit and cheese and wine. Will that help?”

“You eat just like a goddamn Bohemian,” he muttered. “Sure, that’ll save me. You know I‘m a meat and potatoes man.”

“Plebian,” she muttered.

“Whatever the hell that is. Sound likes we still have the same old problems.”

“Food. Sexual attraction.” She looked around. “What time is it, anyway?”

He leaned back and looked around the edge of the lean-to. “Sun’s about halfway through the afternoon. Can’t say for sure. I haven’t know what time it was since daylight savings time went into effect.”

“What do you see out there?”

He squinted up. “Pickup guts. Some of the ugliest sand I’ve ever seen. And a bunch of no-neck gulls waiting for us to die so they can pick our bones clean.” He gazed down the deserted beach. “I’m surprised someone hasn’t come snooping around and caught us buck naked. You sure picked an out of the way place. You been here before?”

She gave him a lazy smile. “Nope. Just old American know-how, I guess. Besides, I’m a water person. Some of my people in England were sailors. That’s how we got to America. Then my ancestors continued to make their living off of the ocean. It’s in my blood, the way ranching is in yours. And bull riding.”

“Sometimes I didn’t do that much bull riding. Mostly, me and the bull left the chute together, and then he sent me out on my own personal tour of the air with the added attraction of a fast, and hard, acquaintanceship with the ground.“

She smiled. “But you loved it.“

“But I loved it,“ he agreed with a sigh. “Save my soul, I did love it. And it takes root in the system.“

“Just like the love of the ocean does.“

“Just how in the hell were you content being out on the ranch, so far from all this.“ He nodded toward the roaring ocean, then up and down the beach. “Doesn’t look like there’s another living soul around for miles. Just think of the men who have landed on this beach. Their hopes. Their fears. Their defeats. Hey!” he yelled and glared down at her. “Why’d you pinch me like that?!”

“Stop gawking around. I’m wanting attention, mister.” She leaned toward him.

“Just so you don’t want servicing. What gives, anyway? You act like you’ve been in the middle of a long drought. You’ve been hornier than a she-goat in rutting time.”

She stretched out on her back, writhed luxuriously, and smiled with her eyes closed. “Rainfall’s been meager.”

“Hell, you went to the Poconos with that Eric character. And one of your professors had a thing for you. I couldn’t figure out which was the lucky guy. Talk about Abbott and Costello not knowing who’s on first. You should be damned confused by now.”

“I am.” She squinted up at him. “I don’t know how you heard about all of that, but it’s true. I require a lot of servicing.” 

“I’m beginning to find that out,” he muttered and frowned. “You seen to have so many, ah, friends.”

“Jealous?”

“Hell, no. Just curious.” He chewed around on the inside of his mouth for a moment. “Hell, yes. I’m jealous as a green-eyed coon.”

“Don’t be.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “It doesn’t affect us one goddamn bit.” Her eyes popped open and she stared at him. “Not down here in this weather system.” She turned back on her side and gave him a knowing smile. “There’s rain showers.” She dropped her eyes, watched her hand trail down his arm onto his hip, and was amused at the goose bumps her hand caused. Her eyes popped back to his face. “And then there’s thunderstorms. And you are definitely--” She squeezed his hip. “--a thunderstorm. A tornado, in fact.”

He jerked. “Careful. You’ll make lightning strike.”

“Again?” She laughed deep in her throat. “I thought lightning wasn’t supposed to strike even twice in one spot, but your lightning-- Well, a poor girl could get dizzy from counting.”

He grabbed her jutting hip and rocked it toward him. “Bitch,” he murmured, then nuzzled her breast with his mouth and trailed his lips up her throat to her waiting mouth.

After awhile, she leaned back with her eyes closed. “Is that the proper kiss you promised me? If it was, it wasn’t bad.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, lady.”

“Promises, promises.” She let him tease her nipple with the tip of his tongue. “That’s not my mouth.”

“It’ll do.”

She laughed, then pushed him away when his hand got too inquisitive and too abrasive.

“What’s wrong? Is it tender down there?” he asked. “No wonder. This damn sand is scouring us both raw.”

She traced a line that explored near his groin. “What caused this scar on your hip?”

“A bull gored me.”

Her eyes went smoky. “I’m glad he missed the bull’s eye.”

“If you ain’t the damnedest--”

She felt brazen. “Yes, I am. I’ve never felt so free. Anything’s possible, Ray.”

“For a short time, missy. We can make time stand still for a little while.”

“Yes.” She leaned forward and kissed his mouth. Her eyes flicked over his face. “Yes.” And she kissed him again.

“Thunder heads building on the horizon, missy.”

She rolled over and pressed her back against his chest. “Dog-style, Ray. Everyone should have that experience at least once.”

They liked the position so well, they slept that way all night.

 

Ray sat hunkered against the wind on a sand dune. “So this is the Atlantic Ocean. Never thought I’d see it. Saw the Pacific once. Out in Oregon. Damn impressive. There’s not a damned thing gentle about any of them, is there?”

“You’re melancholy today. What’s causing that? Do you still think that you should hate me?”

He stared at his hands. “I try and try, but I’m not having much luck.”

“Ray-- You know this isn’t going to work-- With us.” The wind flapped the tails of her jacket and the corners of her scarf.

Ray squinted out to sea. “Yeah, I know that, too. We had to try it, though. It was in the stars, or some damn place.”

“We’d burn each other out. It’s too intense. Why, you’re looking terrible already.”

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean it. You look awfully tired.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re not giving me much rest.”

“And older.”

“Ha! The last few days would age anybody.”

“You even look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I’m on this new diet called ‘No Eating.’ It‘s real easy to follow. Nothing‘s allowed.”

“I hate it when you get all snarly like that.”

“I’ve got good reasons.”

She sighed. “You and your stomach.”

He squinted at her. “That’s not the main reason.”

“I suppose you’re looking at your main reason.”

“I reckon you’re right.”

“It’s no good, Ray.”

He squinted up at the sun, down the beach. Anywhere, but at her. “I know.”

“Besides, we have nothing in common besides--”

His eyes burned at her. “Besides.”

She shivered. “Besides, there’s a man, in California--”

He sighed. No, it was more of a disgruntled huff. “There’s always a man. Somewhere.”

“I need to see him again. He’s a dreamer, Ray, a foolish romantic dreamer. We spent a weekend together once, and all he touched was my soul.”

“Now he was either stupid, missy, or very foolish. Or fucking gay.”

She smiled. “Not gay. He had a wife, older and stronger than he was. And he was fascinated with her. I’ve read since that he’s divorced from her and has had flings with other girls.”

“So now you’re hoping he’s ready for you?”

“He’s an unfinished chapter. I can’t seem to forget him.”

“You’ve always seemed more practical than that, girl.”

“He and I have similar interests and backgrounds while you and I have nothing in common besides--”

“Besides. No, you’re right. You’re meant to live in the world and be with people. Living out on that ranch out in the middle of nowhere would kill you, inside and out, after awhile. I saw my ma and Tommy’s ma and other women dry up and die on that prairie. It’s a man’s country, all right. Men are satisfied to live in it. But women need things, gentle things. Pretty flowers and gardens with all kinds of green things growing in them. And gracious things like dressing up and going to tea parties and slow dancing and talking ideas with refined people. That’s what Ma and Trudy were needing and never got. Not that they needed it every day, but once in awhile it would’ve helped them tolerate the brutal, soul killing times that came their way“ He glanced at her, hoping he wouldn‘t anger her. “And then there’s women like you--”

She looked but sharply, but held her tongue to see where he was going with his thought.

“Not that you wouldn’t have the grit for it,” he added quickly. Then, when he saw she wasn‘t going to protest, he continued. “I know you‘ve got grit. I‘ve seen you do things that would test anybody‘s nerves, man or woman. Pulling that thorn out of my arm, for starters.”

. She rolled her eyes, but didn’t add anything.

He studied her. “Getting out in the middle of a horse herd, at night, in a thunderstorm.“ He breathed deeply. “Barefooted. Just 'cause you thought you were trying to save my life.“

She rolled her eyes again. “I should’ve let the bastards trample you.“

“Your loss.“

She looked at him sharply, seriously. “Yes. My loss.“

“I know you could live the life out on the ranch. It’s not that. I just don’t know if your heart would be in it very long. And then there’s Tommy. He’d get to resenting the both of us. And, as you say, we’d burn each other out. But what a way to go, eh?” He grinned evilly at her, without humor.

“Ray--”

“Don’t worry. I won’t press it. I’m not stupid, or foolish.”

“Who was it that chased me clear across the United States? I’ll never forget that, Ray. They must’ve thought you were some character actor out in L.A. It’s a wonder they didn’t offer you a job.”

“Hell, I can’t act, missy. I am what I am. But you, you’re an actress. You change personalities as easily as you change disguises, or clothes. Better go take yourself a screen test, girlie, ‘cause you’re good.”

“Ray, please--”

“Forget my acid. I shouldn’t have said it that way. But I do think you could act. And I sure as hell know you can sing. Try it, girl. Go back out there. Maybe you and this California dude can make movies together.”

“That’s a better idea than you realize. He’s already an actor. If I said his name, you’d recognize it. I’m sure you would. Either that, or the guy he played. Remember ‘Harrington-Price’ on television? I remember watching the show with you guys.”

“The old geezer and the pretty boy out solving crimes? The kid had something wrong with him, and the old geezer had a medicine to keep him going. In return, the kid had to let the old geezer help solve mysteries so he could get his kicks. There was a lot of car tires squealing and a lot more bickering between the two stars. They got so they liked the bickering as much as the crime solving, and so did the audience. Yeah, I saw it a few times. One of my, ah, lady friends was a big fan of the show. She never permitted any hanky-panky ‘til the show was over. And then-- Well, I tried to be there early. I really should have sent a fan letters to those two guys to thank them for getting Suzie in the mood. Which one did you like? Surely, not the old geezer.”

“The young guy. The one who played Harrington.”

“Yeah. I could see you with him. You’re both kind of amiable and easy going. You say he spent a weekend with you and didn’t touch you? I thought he’d have more balls than that. Say he was married? That could’ve been just a smoke screen so he’d seem normal. Sometimes those actor dudes are pansies.”

“I doubt if he is. I just didn’t seem to inspire him that way.”

“And now you’re wondering if you could. What if you can’t? What if all you two will ever be is just friends?”

“Then I’ll know for sure, won’t I? Like I said, all we did that weekend was talk. All we may ever do is talk. But I have to know for sure. I’ve never really gotten him out of my mind. I’m sure you know all about obsessions, or you wouldn’t be out here. There were times I thought I’d forgotten him, and then Pop! there he was, back again, alive and well in my memory.”

“And what if he’s forgotten you?”

“Then that probably will destroy my romantic daydream about him once and for all. Then, I might be hunting you up someday.”

“You know where I’ll be. But I won’t be holding my breath. We can’t live in each other’s world. A few days down here in the sand is one thing, but a life together back on the ranch is out of the question. We’re both smarter than that.”

“A part of me will always love you, Ray.”

“And a part of me, likewise. Guess which part?” He winked at her. “That’s kinda cute. You can still blush.”

“Of course, I can, you horny, old goat!”

“Don’t play innocent with me! You like rolling around in the sand as much as I do. That’s all that appeals to us.”

“No, Ray, we love with our minds, too. That’s how Miles and I love each other now.”

“Miles. That’s the actor dude, right?”

“That’s how we touched each other that weekend. Through our minds.”

Ray shook his head. “Can’t understand how a gal so practical in other ways can be so romantic and foolish about that dude.”

“Everyone has contradictions in personality. I guess that’s one of mine. Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps it won’t work out with Miles and me.”

“And I’ll never know.”

“Yes, you will. You and the whole world will know. You’ll see us in the movies together.”

“Or married to each other. Hollywood, huh?“ he asked with a snort. “Well, you ain’t there yet. Now you‘re with me, here, on the ugliest stretch of sand that ever got created. And it looks like Heaven.”

She looked around. “Yeah.” 

He held out his hand to her. “Come here, missy. Come sit with me in the sand.”

She complied, and they huddled together.

“So, Ray, has it been worth it? Has it been worth the trip East? Have you found what you thought you’d find?”

“Yes, and no.”

“Are you unhappy about it?”

“Yes, and no.”

“Do you still love me like you thought you did?”

He studied her face. “Yes,” he answered, then finally added. “And no.”

“You don’t seem exactly thrilled either way about that.“

He shrugged his shoulders.

She got on her knees and squinted at him. “Let me see if I can cheer you up.”

Later, tired from frolicking with Ray and warmed by the sun, Barbara slept under the blanket as she lay curled against a sand dune. 

Much later, she awoke, but was lethargic was she lazed in her blanket. Wind flapped around her. Her skin felt dusty and gritty from wallowing in the sand. But she felt so luxurious as she stretched her limbs slowly in the accommodating sand. To lie here forever in the warm sand. To have the sand cover and shift around her. To push her limbs through it. To have it resist, so she had to push, but not too much. To have it flow easily, but not too easily. 

To have Ray gently, but firmly pull her thighs apart so that the sand flowed over and around her legs. To be so relaxed that she offered no resistance when he serviced her. To be alert enough to press against him and then to cling to him in the golden sleep enveloped her again. To sleep, to doze, to listen to the surf and the cry of the ever-present seagulls. To feel the sun beating down on skin naked of everything but sand. To be so trusting, so relaxed, so willing to flow with the tides in the ocean and the tides in her body that she could float that way forever. To touch him and know that she gave him pleasure. To be as one with the rhythm of the universe. To cease to exist, except for sensuality. 

But it was all a dream, all an interlude. Life could not ebb and flow with the tides. Life was gnashing and clawing and biting. Success was fighting against the ebb and flow of the tides. For only through resistance can progress be made.

But here for today, for a few brief todays, she could cling to Ray, and together they could drift weightlessly where their passion led them.

It could not last.

And they both knew it.

 

“We just have to get some real food, or you really will have a dead man on your hands, missy,” Ray declared. 

“Again?! You ate just yesterday,” she teased.

“That was then, this is now.”

“But you had clam chowder and seafood salad and hush puppies until I thought they’d run out of food. Where’d you put it all?”

“In that little privy next to the road this morning.”

“You are uncouth,” she said with a grin. Ray had the same earthy streak that she’d always brought out in Brad. “But you’re wrong. You haven’t lost the residue from that food yet. It takes awhile for it to circle around in that magnificent gut system you possess.”

“Have to come to the damn beach for an anatomy lesson,” he grumbled. “And in the meantime, I’ll starve!”

She grinned. “You wouldn’t starve to death this fast.”

“There’s other ways to kill a man. You’re hard on me, girl.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Things are tough all over. Come on, let’s see what the natives around here have to eat.”

The perennial McDonald's was a scant five miles away in the local resort town. After burgers and fries and gallons of coffee, they bought some snacks and instant coffee for their campsite.

“Better now?” she wanted to know as they again huddled at their fire.

“I’m more interested in living now, if that’s what you mean. I just might be around to face the morning sunrise.”

“Men and their stomachs.”

“I noticed that you ate your share of vittles.”

“I wanted to keep you company.”

“Ha! When you got through, McDonald's could split their stock and declare a profit. You have one helluva appetite, girl, and don’t you go denying it.”

She gave him a knowing look. “I have several insatiable appetites.”

He gave her a knowing look back. “Now that I’ve got my strength back, you better watch out for me, girl.”

“Promises, promises.” And even though she laughed, she squeezed his hand. Then she straightened and looked around. “Think I’ll go for a walk.”

“A walk?! I thought you were getting cozy again. You‘re a damned hard girl to read, at times.”

“We’d better let that food settle first. Besides, I just need a little time alone. Now, stop looking so disappointed. You haven’t lost me yet. I won‘t walk away.”

“Wish I had me one of them poker faces. I used to, until you came along. That’s what you’ve done for me, robbed me of any pretenses I’ve might’ve ever had.”

“Now, I wouldn’t like you if you were devious,” she said as she patted her clothing into place. “I’m an ocean person, Ray. I grew up next to one. I like communing with it. I have the need to be alone with it now.”

“That’s sorta the way I feel about the prairie. All the people in the world sometimes can’t take the place of solitude. Okay, go on now. Go do your communing, or whatever, and me and my trusty pickup will stand guard.”

She smiled and waved as she started down the beach. Ray watched until she was a tiny dot. It was like losing her before. It was like losing her again. For good.

Barbara trudged through the loose sand for a long time. The pull on the calves of her legs felt good. She might even awaken with charley horses tonight. So be it. That was to be expected. Besides, other parts of her body were sore. Why shouldn’t the calves of her legs?

Gulls wheeled and screamed over her head as they searched for broken pieces of shellfish washed up on shore. The wind had risen, and Barbara had to tug her hair behind her ears. It was a wild weather afternoon, and Barbara loved it. She thought of other beaches, other days, other trudges through similar sucking sands. She thought of a long ago weekend with a man named Miles Paxton Hughes who probably didn’t remember her. She thought of the man up the beach who loved her with his eyes and his heart, but knew she didn’t want to know of his devotion, so he kept silent. What kind of uncaring fiend was she that she couldn’t accept his love? He was a good person.

When she returned to the pickup, she found Ray had fallen asleep. His face was furrowed with intense concern. She wished she could ease his mind, but she didn’t want to give him false hope. That would be terribly unkind. She simply sat and watched him sleep and tried to imagine what it would be to do that for the rest of her life. She couldn’t imagine it. At last she lay down beside him and drew her arms around him. He protested at first, then finally snuggled against her with a sigh and kept on sleeping. She watched the worry lines smooth on his face, knew she had eased his concern and then contentment, and slept herself.

 

“How come you’ve never married, Ray?” 

He wrapped his hands around his coffee mug and stared into the flames of the fire that crackled at their feet on the beach that night. “Guess I’m not the marrying kind.” He sipped at the coffee and glanced furtively at her. “How about you?”

“Never really thought about it before.”

“And now you are?”

“And now I am. Just theoretically, though.” She watched her hand idly messing with the rough saw grass. “And you?”

He shrugged deeper into the blanket that covered his shoulders. “Last night we didn’t need no fire and no coffee and no blankets to keep us warm. And now, here we are on opposite sides of a fire, trying to get warmed up again.”

“Is that all it was, Ray? Sexual attraction? And after we got that out of the way, there’s nothing more for us?”

“Could be.”

“Or, are we simply wanting more of something that just can’t be?”

Ray sighed. “There you went and said it. Christ, I don’t know, missy. I do know I haven’t had a moment’s peace since you disappeared. Being around you on the ranch and not having you was bad enough, but, this other, Christ. All that time I was searching for you, I felt so alone. There was a big hole in my life, and I don’t think it was because I missed screwing you.”

“We’re the odd balls, you know. I once heard someone say that most people get married and most people stay married. And those people say we’re missing something. Do you think we are?”

“Maybe. Me, I never took the time for marriage. I grew up too fast. First the Army, then the ranch. Then Tommy’s folks died and I had him to raise. I’d quit rodeoing by then, but it was Dwight’s life, so I didn’t guilt him into helping with Tommy. My life was full enough. But what about you? What keeps you one step of a minister? Most gals hanker after a wedding ring. That’s what they’re raised for.”

“My parents were old when I was born. I was more of an embarrassment to them than a joy. I was shy as a child and a loner. I didn’t make many friends. I guess it’s been only in the last few years I’ve found that I can relate to people. I envy those who can be open to others. I think that’s why I find Miles Paxton Hughes so intriguing. He’d be so easy to love.”

“And I’m about as comforting as snuggling up against a cactus.”

“But you consume me! And I’ve never, ever, felt that way with anyone before.”

The flames of the fire crackled in the silence.

“So that’s where we stand, missy. Something like we got can’t be taken over a long period of time.”

Her eyes blazed through the flames. “How about in small doses?”

He found he couldn’t quite breathe, but finally he managed a grin. “We could just put those other people’s theories to shame. You know, the ones that say that married love is best.”

“Let’s try.”

“God, missy, don’t go giving me hope.”

“I’m not doing anything for you that I don’t want to do for myself.”

“And what would this actor dude say about it?”

“It wouldn’t be any of his business.”

“If you were married to him--”

“That would be on a different plane of my existence.”

“Huh?”

“I know it sounds like metaphysical shit to you.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“You’re better off not knowing. Besides, it doesn’t go along with my picture of you to understand certain stuff.”

“No man will ever completely possess you, will he? You’ve got too many sides to you. That much I can understand, missy. And I don’t know metaphysical shit from horse shit.”

“They’re alike in many ways. They both basically stink.” She sighed. “Oh, Ray, I’m still looking for answers. But for now, let me be content with what I have here with you. Let’s try to keep the fires going, if only for tonight.”

He stared at her and saw that her eyes were starting to get smoky again. He frowned, then he grinned, and finally he laughed out loud.

“Oh, hell, missy. Why not? Why the hell not?”

And the heat from the bonfire wasn’t the only warmth felt on the beach that night. Once again, the two diverse people from different worlds and living by different philosophies found a common ground together, if only for that night.


	19. Chapter 19

The next day, Barbara wore a long, flowing muumuu like the one she’d worn so long ago on another beach on the other side of the United States. That had been at Miles’ house, and that muumuu had belonged to his sister, the airline stewardess, if she recalled correctly. Barbara remembered the gaudy Hawaiian flowers on that other muumuu, and it did not flap as much as this one did. Maybe there was just more material in this muumuu, or maybe there was more here in Carolina.

The winds seemed to blow stronger on the Atlantic Coast, at least they did today. Barbara frowned, thinking of that fact. Everything seemed more intense here today. Even the sun was broiling down on them hotter, and she hadn’t noticed its sharp heat before today. There were a lot of things that she hadn’t noticed until today. 

A lot of things were aggravating her today, too. The heat, the flapping muumuu, the damn, ever present seagulls with their watchful eyes.

Ray sat on the sand and watched as she clumped around the beach, as if she had some unknown agenda dogging her. He thought about the no-neck gulls that haunted the area. But he knew that, unlike the gulls, Barbara wasn’t searching for bits of half-rotten crab meat washed in by the tide. There was another hunger in her, a hunger he couldn’t satisfy.

She wandered back to where he was sitting.

“Wear yourself out yet,” he wanted to know.

“Working on it.”

“You’re getting restless,” Ray tried to say without the sourness he was feeling. She’d been slipping away from him all morning, and he knew that their interlude was nearly over. And it saddened him.

“I feel--” She flung her arms out in frustration.

“Restless.”

She dropped her arms. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You know why, don’t you?”

“We have nothing in common, besides--”

“Besides.”

She took a few careening steps, and he thought she might fall, but she didn‘t. She simply took a few more erratic steps, heedless of her destination. Just so she was moving.

“And there has to be more, Ray! We deserve more than shared lust!” She looked back at him with a challenge on her face.

He grinned evilly. “Ain’t been bad, girl.”

“Ray--”

He sighed in agreement. “I know what you mean. We ain’t friends. Not the way you think you and that actor dude are. I think we could’ve been friends, if this other thing wouldn’t have gotten in the way. But we shared things out in Montana. We were more equals than you and Tommy ever were. And now we have the memory of these last few days together. Doesn’t all of that count for something? Aren’t we friends yet?”

He sounded so awfully wistful that she stopped her pacing and bent to caress his weather-beaten face with her hand. “Oh, my love,” she said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I know I am.” She dropped her hand. “And I know I will.”

“And I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I thought I had when you left the ranch so sudden. All you’d wanted was to be part of our family, and I sent you packing, or so I thought until I learned about Bambi Love and those California guys coming back into your life.”

“Poor Ray! You thought enough of me to worry. For that, I thank you.” She breathed deeply. “Yes, I envied you for having your family. But I don’t know if they would have been enough for me. I still don’t know what I want.”

He squinted up at her. “Funny, that’s not a problem for me. I know exactly what I want.”

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it‘s going to be.” She gently stroked his face. “I wish I could feel more than lust for you. It gets in the road of even friendship. What a hell we’ve created for ourselves!” Her eyes mellowed. “My darling, darling Ray.”

Ray sighed and cradled his face against her legs. Her enveloping skirt flapped around him.

“Oh, Christ,” he murmured, “I love the smell of you.” He reached up and cupped her hips in his hands and drew her toward him. He raised his head, and his lips found the secret, vital part of her through the skirt of her muumuu.

She started to spread her legs to accommodate his mouth, then gasped when his lips matched her hidden pair exactly. An electric bolt shot straight up from her core, zapped her nipples in passing, and wedged itself somewhere behind her eyeballs where a brilliant light display rocketed just for her benefit. Goose bumps flared down her arms, and she felt the first blast of winter despite the summery heat.

No one could tolerate that much stimulation. She gasped and turned with a whimper to break his hold on her.

He looked down in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Ray.” Not just for him. Her nether regions which had been on fire just a scant moment before were withering from the cold left by his leaving.

He raised his eyes, but couldn’t quite meet hers. “Most people have to contend with ex-marriage partners messing up a new relationship. Me, I’ve got the ghost of something that’s never been.” He stood up and dusted sand off his jeans. “Well, come on. I’ll take you back now.”

She looked amazed. “Where?”

“To Aunt Twiddies. We’re down to talking in circles. We’re getting nowhere but dizzy.”

She didn’t argue, and the trip back to Pennsylvania was nothing but small talk about where to eat and what historical areas they were passing. Commonness had crept back into their lives when they returned to civilization, and already the interlude at the Carolina beach seemed unreal. And the trip to Barbara’s home seemed so much faster than the trip down. In no time at all, they were cruising down familiar streets.

Ray stopped his pickup a block from Aunt Rose’s house. “A healthy girl like you can walk that far.”

Barbara’s eyes looked lost. “Ray--” She fell against him and kissed him.

He gently pushed her away. “Easy. Otherwise, we might have to hunt up a beach again. And the ocean’s nowhere close to here. It’s miles away. Of course, there’s always river banks, but it probably wouldn’t feel the same. I expect mud isn‘t the same as sand.”

She put her fingers over his lips to stop the mindless flow of words. “Ray, I’ll never forget you.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“You’ll always be in my heart. You’ll be my perfect love, the relationship that couldn’t survive in the real world.”

He frowned. “I’m a man, missy. If you start having romantic daydreams about me, I’ll hunt you up and blister your butt.”

Her eyes shot sparks. “Promise?”

“God, girl, don’t do this to me. You’re eyes are getting all smoky, and I know what that means. I know every inch of you now, and I want to explore further. My fingers still have sand on them, and I long to scour you with them again.” His hand tightened on her arm, then relaxed. “If it doesn’t work out with you and that dude in California--”

“I know where you’ll be.”

“Tommy, or no Tommy. Ranch, or no ranch. Whether we ever having else in common besides--”

“Besides.”

He studied her face. “I don’t care what we’ve said before about it not working out for us. There’d be a way. If we really ever want it, we’d find a way.”

“I know. It won’t ever be the same way with any other guy. But we live in the whole world, not on an isolated beach. If I could bring Miles up to one-tenth of what you and I’ve had sexually, I’ll be successful. But Miles and I already have other things that are important to us. I feel that he and I could talk non-stop for a year, and still find fresh topics to discuss.”

“Are you sure we couldn’t share a lifetime of talking?”

“We never did do that much talking, Ray.”

“I know. We always had more important things to do.” 

“Oh, you!” she slapped his arm.

He studied her almost sadly. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Sis. I hope you don’t hurt that actor dude too much. ‘Cause you could, you know.” He took a deep breath. “Truth is, missy, you eat people alive. You always thought it was the other way around, didn’t you? I think that’s what you learned from those singer folks I followed from Los Angeles. You’d hurt them, too, and you just found that out.” He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at her. “Well, Sis, you can’t hurt me. I won’t let you. I’m onto you. Besides, you’d get tired of living on the ranch with me.”

“Maybe I’m just selfish, Ray. I guess I did hurt Brad and Dusty. I don’t know what I’m searching for really, and I hurt people in my search. I’m not contented with anything, it seems.”

“And I’m contented with what I get. That’s the difference between us. I hope you’re not trusting in a pipe dream too much, missy. It might all be just so much smoke.”

“And you thought I didn’t have a romantic side to me, didn’t you? Nothing sensible has worked out for me, so I’m going to try doing something utterly stupid. Who knows? This thing with Miles might actually work.”

“I wish you luck, missy. You’ll both need it.”

“You understand me better than even I can.” She wrinkle her brow in thought. “How come we drove back here in virtual silence, and now we can’t talk enough?”

“Because we know this is it, Sis. This is where we part company.”

“And you kiss your pickup and ride off into the sunset in true Western tradition?”

“Something like that.” He looked thoughtful. “Another circle completed. The Indians believe that all life is just one big circle, and I’m not sure if they aren’t right.” He stared at her. “I’m not what you need, and I sure as hell don’t need the likes of you in my life, messing me up so I can’t think straight.” His eyes burned with intensity. “But we had us a time, girl. No one can ever take that away from us. But something that intense flares up, bright and hot, and burns itself out. That much feeling can’t last a lifetime. Quiet, steady burning is what we both need. Until you came along, I didn’t know I needed anything, hot or quiet. At least I can thank you for that. Now maybe I can go find the proper gal meant for me. Nights might not be so ferocious with her, but I might have a chance to live to be an old man. And I don’t know what my life expectancy would be if you were around on a full-time basis. But it might set the gods to cursing themselves for not living among us,” he said softly with his heart in his eyes.

Tears sprang, unbidden, to her stinging eyes. “I never thought of you as a poet.”

“I’m finding out a lot about myself, too. Who would’ve ever thought that I’d give a screwball dame like you a second glance? But I won’t forget you, girl. And I hope that you won’t forget me. Just remember that there’ll always be one old cowboy out there who’s thinking you’re something pretty special.” He touched her nose with his rough finger. “See you in the movies, missy.” He leaned toward her and gently kissed her lips. “Now, get out of here while I still have the heart to do this.” Then he gave his voice a sternness he didn’t feel. “Go on, get out.”

Barbara opened the door, then glanced back. That’s when she learned that his eyes could caress far gentler than his hands. He was revealing more of his soul than he intended, and it startled her. He must’ve realized what she’d seen because she saw wariness and even fear come into his eyes.

She arched her eyebrow. “You’re a fraud, Ray Nolan, and maybe even a coward. You want me to come with you, but you’re afraid of what’ll happen if I do. I thought cowboys were scared of nothing.”

“Nothing we understand. What you’re seeing now is just self-preservation. I’ve never been around anyone like you before. Knowing you better just deepens the mystery of who you really are and confuses my reasoning more.” He bit his lips together. “I think I’m going to consider myself the biggest fool who ever lived if I leave here by myself. But you scare me, missy, and I wish you didn’t. I let you touch me deep inside. I don’t like someone being able to do that. I thought what people do in bed was to let off steam. I thought it was a mindless act, but no more. Those few days down on that Carolina beach are going to haunt me forever.”

He had to look away for a minute before he continue. He stared intently at the pickup’s steering wheel. “And during some blizzard when my bed’s warm and cozy or after some beautiful sunset when the mountains and prairie are in perfect peace, I’m going to miss having you in my arms. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sit in my rocker on the back porch and look out over the south pasture without thinking of you.”

He looked back at her. “We spent some peaceful times out there, out on that back porch, not saying a word, but being perfect companions for each other. The kitchen ain’t going to be safe, either, with my memories of you learning to cook country. Or the barn. Or the bedroom. The whole damn ranch is going to haunt me.“ He breathed deeply. “I’m going to miss you, girl, and it’d be a lie if I said any different. And I know why. You‘re a part of me, girl, and like it or not, you always will be.” His eyes were sparks off granite. “Down on that Carolina beach I drove sand deep down inside your body, but it scoured the both of us. I may never heal from those wounds.”

Barbara stood on the sidewalk and shut the pickup door. “You have to, Ray.”

“If ever you decide differently, missy, you know where I’ll be. I don’t know about you, but I may never get all of that sand out of my system.” He squeezed the steering wheel in his hands and watched as he twisted it. “I’ve never said things like this before. I’ve never felt this way before. Hell, I never knew I could feel this way.” He shot a painful glance at her, then quickly looked away. “That sand cuts deep, missy. I reckon it might even get to festering. Maybe it’ll get to festering in you, too. If you ever need me, I’ll be at the ranch. Visit anytime, so we can get better acquainted. Who knows? We might eventually find we have something more in common besides--” His face darkened into a scowl and the words, however true, were difficult for him to say. “--besides love.”

“Ray--”

Great pain filled the eyes that he turned on her. “I love you, girl. Pure and simple. It’s not shared lust. Not anymore.”

“I know,” she murmured and looked down.

“I love you, and I know that’s the last thing in the world you want to hear. Having roots scares the hell out of you. I don’t know why you don’t trust anyone offering anything permanent, but I am. I always will. Anytime you want me, I’ll be there for you. I can’t do otherwise.” He saw her head sink lower. “Don’t ask me to feel any different. I love you, and it ain’t no good pretending that I don’t. I ain’t never said that to another living soul, outside my family. And I ain’t got no idea what I’m going to do about it.”

Her head shot up. “Stop talking so uneducated! You’re a smart man, and very intelligent.”

“But we’re still different.”

“Viva la difference!”

“You know what I mean. A girl like you needs more from a man than I can offer. Most girls, I could satisfy. But you are most girls. Trouble is, I doubt if that actor dude is gonna be enough for you, either.”

“Damn you, Ray, stop echoing what’s rattling around in my head!” She sighed. “You should never grin. It makes you uglier than you are.”

His hand grasped her hand on the open windowsill, and his eyes flashed. “That’s just skin deep, missy.” The pressure of his hand increased.

“Ray, I need time. I’m just sorry that it’s time out of your life, too. If you meet someone else, I’ll understand. In fact, I hope you do.”

“Sure, missy, that’ll suit me just fine, too.”

“Ray--”

He released her hand and she crammed it into her coat pocket.

“Sure I sound bitter, but why in the hell shouldn’t I be?!” He frowned. “Truth is, girl, I fell in love, and you didn’t. What the hell is wrong with you, anyway?”

“I don’t know.”

“I thought women latched onto guys. I thought it was guys who were altar shy. You sure as hell can--” He shrugged. “You know. Do the bed jig.”

“I know. I seem to have a natural talent for it.”

“And I’m not even allowed to be jealous.” He glanced up at her with tears glistening in his eyes. “You made me human, though, and I thank you for that much. But you forgot to do the same favor for yourself. I was different and I intrigued you. You probably even had a crush on me out in Montana. That’s the way it started. And then there was this lust thing between us.” His eyes hardened. “But you ain’t never, ever, LOVED me, not the way that I love you. And now you’re leaving me flat, sending me on my aimless way.” He pursed his lips. “And that’s as much as I’m exposing my heart.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Ray.”

“Don’t worry about me, missy.” An evil grin cracked his ugly face. “Here’s hoping for future encounters with you. And I’ll try not to get too serious for you. But if the future encounters don’t happen, we’ll always have one glorious experience to remember. We had us a hell of a time, girl. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

She smiled wistfully. She knew he was trying to be brave. “Say hello to Tommy for me, will you? Tell him that everything’s fine with me.”

“Right,” he said briskly as he started the pickup. He knew he was being dismissed. “He’ll be glad to hear from you, too.”

She grabbed the pickup door. “Ray!”

His heart was breaking, and she was the cause of it. She leaned in the pickup and kissed him hard on the mouth. She felt Ray’s lips melting to hers and with it, his resolve.

She broke the kiss and straightened. “Goodbye,” she said crisply.

“God, missy--” He twisted the steering wheel in his hands. “Thank you,” he mumbled without looking at her. “Maybe I can leave now. Goodbye and good luck. Have a good life. Maybe we‘ll meet up on The Other Side. Maybe not. I‘ll be looking for people who really cared for me.” But he continued to stare at his hands. “It’s no good. Take all the time you need. What else can I do?” He put the pickup in gear and, when he thought it was safe, he glanced at Barbara. Sparks crackled in his penetrating eyes, and they both knew they’d never be completely free of each other. “Just so there’s no misunderstanding, you’ll always be my sweetheart. Ain’t nothing ever going to change that. Not now. Not ever.” 

Barbara took her hand off the pickup and stepped back. Ray pulled away from the curb and drove down the street, leaving Barbara to stare after him.

Christ, she thought. I’m doing it to you, too, Ray. It’s best that you go back to your ranch and I go back to my professor. He’ll be frantic by now, and probably testy. He’ll act smug and distant for a few days, but then we’ll get back in stride again. It’s good that I have my professor, at least until his wife returns. Because I’ll need him to forget about you, Ray. Oh, Ray.

He was the one man she’d probably come closest to loving in her whole life, and she was watching him drive away from her, perhaps forever. But they both knew she’d only destroy him and move on to other prey.

As Barbara walked the block to her house, it seemed longer than a week that she’d spent on the Carolina beach with Ray. It seemed like a lifetime, a good lifetime. Even though their love was flawed, it had been good.

But Ray had taught her one thing. The relationship she was needing would require friendship first. Love, if it ever developed, would have to be closely monitored. She couldn’t be as careless with someone else’s heart as she had been with Ray’s.

Barbara wished she could stop hurting people who loved her.

She also realized that she couldn’t go to Miles now. She was too mixed up about Ray to think clearly about anyone else. A future with Miles, or Ray, would have to wait. Time was what Barbara needed. Time, and the promise of love. She hoped that she would eventually find one with the other. In the meantime, she would find solace in the sterile academic world.

Barbara let herself into the house. 

Rose looked up from the television and smiled. “Oh, you’re back. Did you have a nice vacation, dear?”

Dear, sweet Aunt Rose. It never occurred to her to question Barbara about a spur of the moment vacation that lasted a week.

“Yes, I did,” Barbara replied. “Thank you for asking.”

“Your messages are near the telephone. There’s lamb stew for dinner.”

“Sounds good. And thank you for the messages.” She gathered the small pieces of paper and headed toward the open stairway. It was good to be home.

 

Barbara fell back into the university routine. She had been nearly celibate since that encounter with Ray on the Carolina beach. True, her music professor had welcomed her back to his bed. But their affair had gradually cooled into comradeship. After him, she really didn’t care to get involved with someone.

Since she and her professor had ended their affair, she hadn’t felt contented with life. She hadn’t been in love with her professor; theirs had been a clean break. But she fluctuated between a melancholy yearning for something she couldn’t quite identify to a guilt ridden self-loathing. In her mind she’d never ended her affair with Ray; it was simply on hold. But until she’d convinced herself that she couldn’t hurt Ray, she wasn’t going to him. It became very important to her that she did not hurt Ray.

And then she reached the point that she knew she had to contact him again. Many weeks had passed since Carolina when Barbara telephoned Montana. 

 

“Ray, it’s Amy. I’m pregnant.”

On his end of the line, Ray wondered what kind of answer she would consider appropriate. He wanted to say, ‘Will you marry me now?’ Instead he asked, “Do you want to get married?”

“No, I thought you should know since it’s yours.”

Ray was thrilled and wanted nothing more than to have her with him so they could watch her body expand with the coming event. He would cherish her and protect her.

She took his silence for something else. “It is yours.”

“Oh, I’m not denying that,” he said quickly. “Why are you telling me?” he asked and regretted it the moment the words left his lips. But they proved to be the right words.

“Because it is yours, you deserve to participate in its life. I want you here at the birth, if that’s all right with you.”

He grinned. “Nothing would make me prouder, darlin’.”

 

After the baby’s birth, Barbara allowed Ray to care for the child more and more until he finally took it to live with him at the ranch. Barbara was graduated from college by then and working at the university library. The set-up worked for both of them.

Barbara even worked up the courage to follow her other daydream and called Miles Paxton Hughes. She was amazed when Hughes wanted to meet her, but she wanted him to understand her situation.

“I have a daughter,” she explained to Hughes.

“I have a son,” he answered.

“She’s with her father.”

“He’s with his mother.”

“I’m not much of a parent.”

“Neither am I.”

“I’m worried.”

“About?”

“If we had a child.”

“We wouldn’t have to, Barbara. This is a big compound where I live. We could be friends, and neighbors.”

“No, Miles, we couldn’t.”

“Why not? I can control myself. I could be a good little boy and be contented just to be your companion.”

“I want more than that.”

A silence.

“Then we shall have more,” he told her.

“But if we had a child--”

“There’s ways to avoid that, even between friendly neighbors.”

“But I want a child, with you.”

Another silence.

“Then we’ll do better this time. Come on, Barbara, we’ll surely get this parenting thing down right sometime.” He paused, then he added, “And maybe this living thing.”

She giggled in spite of herself. Miles was the right choice, after all.


	20. Chapter 20

Tanner Murphy Hughes sat in the airport waiting for his flight to be called. He’d told Dad to go on home, that it’d be all right to wait for the plane by himself. Heck, he was no kid anymore, and Tanner knew that Dad was anxious to get back to his writing. That last chapter was really bugging Miles, but Tanner knew his father enjoyed working out his writing problems.

Tanner narrowed his eyes. In a few years he’d be old enough to drive, and then he could leave his car at the airport while he was gone. Or better yet, he could drive to Montana to see Mom. That is, if she still was in Montana. Most times Ray knew where Mom was, even if Dad didn’t. Sometimes Ray didn’t even know. But Mom eventually showed up, and Dad and Ray always seemed happy enough to see her wherever she landed.

Tanner didn’t understand the relationship among those three adults. It’d been years before he’d realized that most moms lived with their children. Sometimes dads weren’t always present and made the front door a revolving door, but generally moms were at the same house where the children were residing. Not Tanner’s mom. Tanner couldn’t even work up a healthy resentment toward Barbara. He liked his mom, besides loving her. She was a good friend. But he knew he wanted his future wife to mother their children and to live with him permanently.

Dad was the nucleus of the family, all right. Now that Sean Murphy was dead, Dad owned both of the joined houses on the beach or the compound, as Miles loved to call it. Tanner missed Sean. He’d been like a grandfather to Tanner and had always called the boy ‘Murph.’ Tanner figured the nickname made him special to Sean.

Tanner and Miles saw little of Sean’s scattered children. Tanner’s own half-brother was rarely home. Damien, Miles’ son from his first marriage, was pushing thirty and earned a haphazard living as a free-lance photographer. He’d been around the world several times. Someday, he promised, he’d take Tanner with him. Tanner wasn’t holding his breath.

Mom never really clicked as a singer, and Dad had never really found another television series as successful for him as ‘Harrington-Price’ or ‘Tallahassee Twister. That’s why Miles had turned to writing, and Barbara had turned to wandering.

Or was it? Barbara was an enigma.

Tanner sighed. Maybe eventually he’d understand his mother’s way of life. What would take more understanding from Tanner, though, would be how two great guys like Dad and Ray tolerated her behavior.

Tanner heard his flight called and pulled himself to his feet with a grunt. He knew he should lose some weight. Dad had a weight problem, too, but Tanner really couldn’t notice it.

With his arms loaded down with duffel bags, Tanner trudged toward the loading gate. Mom had promised to take him up into the mountains this time to search for gemstones. Tanner wasn’t holding his breath for that to happen either. Heck, she might not even be at Ray’s ranch!

Heck, his SISTER might even be at the ranch. Now, that really would become kind of a miracle, that SHE would go out of her way to see a dumpy, younger brother like him. She always made it perfectly clear whenever they met that she wasn’t the least bit interested in claiming him. She had other, better things to occupy her time, things like riding barebacked around the prairie like the wild Indian she was, things like protesting the plight of Indians in Washington. What did she think this was? The Sixties? That was back in their mother’s time when apparently everyone was protesting something. 

But this was the start of the Nineties. Couldn’t his sister get realistic? He supposed life was still difficult for the Indians, but why was it her fight? Sure, there was that business about Indian blood running in her veins and all that, but he shared some of that blood from their mutual mother. And you didn’t see him going off the deep end about Indian rights. Lakota could forget her Indian blood, if she really wanted. That was the key phrase: if she really wanted. He figured her protests had a more personal underlying cause: anger at her parents. Heck, if anyone had a reason to be mad at parents, he did. He paused. Maybe he and his sister had more in common than they thought. Maybe he could talk to her.

Tanner hoped that she wasn’t off on some wild tear of hers. Then there wouldn’t be any talking or reasoning with her. Heck, Tanner figured that his mother and Ray couldn’t even control her at those times, which was true.

“Last call for Helena, Miles City.…”

Tanner quickened his steps which only made his baggage wrap around his chunky legs more. Darn! Wouldn’t it be a bright day when he could say out loud more than heck and darn?

 

“We can be together tomorrow. Now that I‘ve found you back, I don‘t want to lose you again so fast.”

“Oh, Miles, tomorrow.” The prospect both thrilled and frightened her. “Oh, Miles, there is something, that I need to tell you, though. Something that may cancel your invitation.”

His voice was full of warmth. “Now, how bad can it be?”

“I have a child, a little girl. Her daddy and I aren’t married.”

There was just enough of a pause on the other end of the phone to let her know that he was having to consider the situation of her having an illegitimate child. This was, after all, a time when unwed mothers were still held in shame. Sure, the hippies lived like wild animals, rutting indiscriminately, but most people were pretty straight-laced with their sex lives. 

“If she’s your child, then she’s more than welcome.”

“Oh, Miles, it’s not that her daddy won’t marry me. He would in a minute. And there’s times that I think that I’m desperately in love with him. No, Miles, the fault lies not with the father. There’s a flaw in me, a flaw that keeps me from trusting Ray completely.”

“Ray, that’s your daughter’s father?”

“Yes. He’s older than me, but just as sweet as God made them. I know I’ve tortured him down through the years with my vacillating. I want to be with him, but the emotion between us is just too intense. He doesn’t understand my way of living, and sometimes it frightens even me. Our lovemaking unleashes something wild in both of us. I’m afraid of what it has done to Lakota and what mark it has left on her.”

“Lakota? Your daughter?”

“Yes. Lakota Sue. For the Lakota Sioux Indians, although that really isn’t Ray’s tribe. He’s Sioux, but of the Blackfoot branch.”

“Pure? I mean, is he pure-blooded?”

“Making Lakota a half-breed? No, there’s just a small percentage of Indian blood in them. They’ve both got black hair and black eyes and a certain wildness to them. Lakota probably inherited more Indian blood from me. I’m supposed to be Mohawk and Delaware.”

“I don’t mind. I’m from New Jersey. There’s Delaware blood in me, although you wouldn’t know it to look at me.” His smile was reflected in his warm voice. “Heck, honey, we might even be related!”

His banter was meant to placate her, but, instead, it brought all of her fears to a head. “Oh, Miles, this can’t work out with us. I’m sorry I called.”

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Don’t hang up! Barbara, I’m just foolish enough to want to try. I won’t be bringing a complete person into a marriage, either. I’ve dated enough girls, but I can’t seem to commit myself to a relationship. I think I married Merlin so she could mother me. What I’d really like to be married to is a friend, someone almost like a sister that I could feel comfortable with. Someone who wouldn’t necessarily always demand a normal husband and wife relationship. Someone who really wouldn’t notice if I got all moody and went off by myself for weeks at a time. Someone who’d let me hole up in my den and write nonstop if the spirit moved me. Someone who wouldn’t expect me to join the Country Club or keep up with the Joneses. Someone who could be my friend and accept me at face value.” He breathed deeply, knowing he’d played his last ace, the naked, honest one. “I know that gives me strange qualifications for husband material. In fact, just the opposite. Are you still interested in a really strange guy?”

Barbara felt like crowing. “Miles, I think we can work something out!”

 

Ray pumped over her, and Barbara clung to him. It wasn’t like the other times they’d made love during this interlude on the beach. Yes, the Carolina sand undulating under her buttocks was the same. Yes, the sky was us as blue behind Ray’s shoulder. But Barbara felt oddly detached. She frowned. This love act was happening to someone else, and she was merely an observer.

Then Barbara became aware of an odd burning tickle deep within her being, the hidden place Ray was trying to reach. Her breath deepened and became more rapid as he neared that citadel deep inside her. She longed to touch that aching spot inside her that Ray was rubbing, but she knew that this was Ray’s project. It was important that he did this part of the procedure, not her with her fingers.

She flung her arms over her head and stretched her head back to look at an upside down ocean through slits in her eyes. She relaxed her legs and felt the outsides of her knees juggling into the sand. She didn’t understand what was happening to her, but she knew she must surrender, literally, to him.

Ray didn’t seem to notice, except to wonder why she had suddenly become passive to him. Passive, that is, on the outside. Inside, she seemed to be opening, teasing, beckoning, to him, and he responded to that invitation.

The burning tickle became more intense. Barbara’s breath came in short, little gasps. That’s all her body would permit her. Otherwise, she was a jellyfish drifting in the ocean currents, a stiff-winged seagull soaring in the breezes, a candle in the wind, a ribbon in the air, a fluttering pulse of a person nearly dead, a, a....

Her insides suddenly burst and began blossoming outward and outward and outward. She hoped she hadn’t evacuated a watery stool into the sand, but she feared that she had. But that didn’t matter in the wake of the feelings that undulated through her. She knew that she had just been impregnated, and that she would have this child. Anything that fought that hard to be conceived deserved to be born.

Ray wrapped her in a blanket, swashy sand and all, placed her inside the flapping tent, and left her alone. He waded into the water so that the salt could work on him.  
Later, he would carry her and the blanket down to the surf and wash them both in the cold salt water. Perhaps the salt would heal her wounded body. 

Barbara lay in the tent and listened to the wind tearing at the canvas. Her vagina burned and ached, and she lay quietly so that the fertilized egg could establish itself firmly on the wall of her uterus. She lay still, although she had no doubt that it would flourish. She also had no doubt that it would be a girl. And the baby would be their own sweet, wild Lakota Sue.

Ray crouched in the surf, letting the salt water swirl around him and bite at his private parts. He gazed back at the flapping tent and could just see Barbara’s bare feet sticking out. God, how he loved those feet! How he loved every inch of her.

He felt a stirring in his loins and stood with a smile. I’ll be damned, ready as ever! Those young bucks had nothing on him. Just thinking of his girl was the only stimulation he needed.

Ray pulled the tent flap aside and looked down on her in the semi-darkness. She smiled up wistfully and made room for him to lie down beside her. But he squatted and folded her skirts up on her belly. She understood and parted her legs.

It was a gentle joining. She was all warm and squishy inside. She jerked some from the sand and salt that he rubbed into her rawness, but otherwise she welcomed him. Later they lay very close together and slept.

They both knew that Barbara was pregnant, although neither spoke of it. That condition would involve another phase of their lives, not now. Now they must cling to each other and make love in the sand and forget that there was anybody else in the world except themselves. And the new little one whom they had just created.

 

“Well, Mattie Burnis, isn’t it? Why, I believe I haven’t seen you since graduation day. We ladies won‘t mention how many years ago that was now, will we?” she asked with a laugh.

Mama smiled warmly as she shook the other woman’s hand. “I’m Mattie Crider now. This is my husband Leonard. You’re Georgia Sterns, right?”

“Richardson now. My husband Harold passed on several years ago. Nice to meet you, Mr. Crider,” Georgia said as she shook the hand of the tall man at Mattie’s side. “Mattie and I used to have us some high, old times in school. I‘m afraid that we were just a little risqué.”

Leonard Crider’s smile was tight. “Really? This is a side of Mattie’s I’ve never seen.”

“Just schoolgirl antics,” Mattie said as she sloughed off the comments. “Best forgotten.”

“Oh, Mattie, what a cute little granddaughter you have!” Georgia gushed after spotting the girl on the other side of Leonard. “That was nice you brought her here today to the class reunion, but won’t she get bored?”

Mama tucked a strand of graying hair behind her ear, frowned slightly, and shot an accusing look at her husband before she looked back at her old classmate at their twenty-fifth class reunion.

“This isn’t a grandchild, Georgia. This is our daughter, Barbara. We don’t believe in babysitters, so we brought the child along.”

“Oh. Really?!” 

There seemed to be something in her tone of voice to suggest something naughty and scandalous for the existence for a late-in-life child, or so it seemed to Barbara. She tried to make herself seem small to hide from the lady’s amused smile. “How old is she?” Georgia asked. “Eight? Nine?”

Mama stiffened. “Seven.”

“And do you have older children?”

“No, she is our only one.”

Georgia’s eyebrow shot up and her mouth made a little moue. Apparently, sex in older people shouldn’t exist. At least, not sex that resulted in an only child.

With a grim expression, Mattie grabbed Barbara’s hand roughly. “Excuse us, Georgia. We have to be going.”

The message that Barbara received early in life was that there must be something terribly wrong with her. Maybe she didn’t deserve the normal things from life that other people got. Maybe she needed to be always careful in her relationships with other people and not give them the opportunity to hurt her. Maybe she could never give herself wholly to a person or trust someone completely. Then she would be safe, safe from their duplicity, safe from her inadequacies.

Even when she was older and should’ve known better, Barbara still believed that she deserved less than other people demanded as their natural rights. Maybe that’s why she loved an older man, wild and untamed himself, and couldn’t admit it.

 

Ray did have other children besides Lakota and Damien. Jennifer and Kyle were products of his marriage to Mary Lou Hankins. They’d been married for nearly six years before Mary Lou walked out on him. She wasn’t as tolerant of Ray and Barbara’s relationship as Miles was. Mary Lou had remarried, and now she and Ray’s children lived near Billings. Ray saw the children occasionally and was proud of them. If he ever was lonely for a normal family life, he never let on to Barbara. He was always quietly waiting for her visits and seemed grateful for the time they spent together. Otherwise, he made no demands on Barbara.

Barbara knew she was extremely lucky with her two men. Miles was a sweetheart, the truest friend she’d ever known. Hadn’t he stood beside her as she clung to Ray and watched little Amy Raylene be buried beside Dwight up in the mountains? Lakota’s full sister had been born a Mongoloid and held onto life for two years before succumbing to pneumonia. It’d been the greatest tragedy in their lives, for Barbara knew that she and Ray and Miles loved their children, regardless of who had been the actual biological parent. Sometimes it all had to be very confusing for Lakota and Tanner, who’d been eleven and five at the time of Amy Raylene’s death.

Miles knew he was Tanner’s father. Despite her deep love for Ray, Barbara enjoyed a physical relationship with Miles. She figured neither man (both possessors of male egos) could quite accept the other’s presence in Barbara’s life, but tolerated the other. Otherwise, they knew, they might lose her. Sometimes, Barbara wished she could choose one or the other for the men’s sakes. But which? She loved them both. And they both loved her. Despite the obvious faults of their three-way relationship, it generally worked. And, in this best of all possible worlds, who could ask for anything more?

 

When Tommy first heard that Ray and Barbara had a relationship together, he was speechless. It took him awhile to learn to call her ‘Aunt Barbara,’ and he did so only to get her goat. In time, he became a supportive friend. He married, moved to Morley to manage his father-in-law’s grain store, and fathered three sons, just as his grandfather Nolan had done. Tommy was always close at hand to look in on Ray. 

 

Sometimes Barbara worried about Ray. He was in his mid-fifties and no longer a young man. The ranch was lonesome for him, so he hired a cowboy and his wife to live in the renovated bunk house. Their crippled son and retarded daughter made the ranch livelier with their games and animal pets. He could almost forget that Lakota was grown and gone.

Oftentimes, Barbara would sit on the front porch and sing to Ray. He’d perch in his rocking chair and she would sit beside him, leaning against his leg. He would stare straight ahead into the south pasture as she sang again the song she’d written for Uncle Billy’s funeral.

“Great Spirit calm the raging rivers  
Launch my canoe in quiet streams  
Don’t let it drift in muddy waters  
Or through this life of many dreams.”

Ray would pat her shoulder or stroke her head much as one would pet a dog, but Barbara was not offended by the actions. If it brought comfort to Ray, she permitted it. Besides, she knew as she looked at his vacant eyes staring into nothingness that he was remembering other times. He loved Barbara for bringing the memories back to him. And if that was all that her music was good for now, so be it.

There were other times when she sat near him, but not touching him, when she would sing the other song, the one about Lakota. She’d written it about Uncle Billy’s mother, but it made them think of the modern-day Lakota and each wanted to be alone in their suffering of their renegade daughter. The separation would make the reunion so much sweeter. For they loved their daughter, but their knowledge of her was bittersweet. She was a true rebel. Barbara wouldn’t mind so much if only Lakota was more content.

Generally, Barbara sat on the top porch step and stared into the same nothingness as Ray did while she sang.

“Sweet Lakota,  
Ride the plains your people knew  
A bare-backed pony  
‘Tween your knees and under you.  
Curse the white men  
Who brought your people down,  
Curse the white man  
Who’s ashamed of you in town.

Once your people lived along the banks  
Of the mighty Missoury  
And the blood of might warriors  
Coursed through hearts meant to be free.  
But the white men came in numbers  
Too great to be defied  
And broke your ancient land and you;  
Their law was not denied.

Indian maiden  
With your crown of coal-black hair,  
Indian maiden,  
Could the white men ever care?  
Ancient homelands  
Scoured by wind and bleached by sun.  
If Indians loved this savage land,  
Then they must be outdone.

Sweet Lakota,  
Ride the plains your people knew  
A bare-backed pony  
‘Tween your knees and under you.  
Curse the white men  
Who brought your people down;  
Curse the white man  
Who’s ashamed of you in town.

Indian maiden,  
With your crown of shiny hair,  
Indian maiden,  
Do you think he really cares?  
Sweet Lakota,  
He’ll never marry you.  
A victor can’t respect the fate  
A fallen conquered drew.

Sweet Lakota,  
Nurse the child that’s born to you.  
No more a maiden;  
Scorned by whites and Indians, too.  
Soon your child discovers  
There’s no truth to being free,  
And like his mother  
Yearns to ride the wild prairie.

Sweet Lakota,  
Ride the plains your people knew  
A bare-backed pony  
‘Tween your knees and under you.  
Curse the white men  
Who brought your people down;  
Curse the white man  
Who’s ashamed of you in town.”

Always in the hush following the song, Ray would rise slowly out of his chair and gently pull Barbara to her feet. He would hold her in his arms and she would try to soothe him with hers, because she knew he was feeling lonesome and melancholy. He’d gaze into the heavens and would always ask the same thing:

“Did we do right by her, Amy?”

Ray always called her ‘Amy’ for that was the girl he’d fallen in love with so long ago when Tommy first brought her to the ranch. He was an old-fashioned man and had fallen in love as only an old-fashioned man can do. But he knew if he wanted to see Amy occasionally, he had to play by her rules. And so he did. And he really loved her when he got the chance to show her. And only someone who really loves someone else could love the way he did.

“Yes, Ray, we did,” she would answer with more conviction than she felt. “We’re only human. We can’t live her life for her.”

“But is she happy, living the way she does? With one man and then the other? Not married. She should be married with children by now.”

She smiled. “The American dream, Ray? Not the way I lived it. Maybe she’s just following in my footsteps.”

“But she has so much anger.”

“She’s a crusader, Ray. The anger isn’t directed toward us. Maybe the anger will make her a great champion for human rights. And then we’ll have a famous daughter.”

“I’ll just settle for a happy one.”

“She is, Ray. I’m happy, and I’ve lived my life differently.” She snuggled against his chest. “Have I ever told you how important you are to me?”

“Yes, but never how much you love me.”

She looked up into his eyes. “Don’t ask that of me, Ray.”

“Trust me, Amy!”

She knew she would hate herself for not saying the words when he was dead and gone, but she just couldn’t.

“Love isn’t a trap, Amy. I’ve never kept you from leaving, although it tears me up each time you do. I’ve never insisted that you leave Miles and marry me.”

“I come back to you, Ray. I’m sorry I can’t commit myself further.”

“I don’t know who hurt you, missy, but they did one whale of a job. I just wished you’d realize it wasn’t me.”

She gazed into his hurt eyes and gave him a sad, wistful smile. “And I wish I was the person you deserve.”


	21. Chapter 21

The telephone rang and Barbara fumbled it as she groped to pick it up. “Hello?” she mumbled, cleared her throat, and tried again. “Hello?”

“Amy? Is Miles with you?”

Barbara shifted to look at the empty place beside her in the double bed. “He’s around here somewhere,” she mumbled. “He must’ve let me sleep in. I’ve been trying to take a cold.” She frowned at the phone. “Who is this?” she demanded.

“It’s Tommy.”

“Tommy?” She tried to focus on this person from her other life. Tommy? Tommy never called her. “What’s wrong?” she croaked. 

“Amy, darling, we need you here.” His voice seemed to break. “It’s Ray, sweetheart. He’s had a heart attack.”

Ice formed around her own heart, and the hand went numb that held onto the telephone.

“What? What did you say, Tommy?” She fought to concentrate and found that tears were streaming down her face.

“He’s at the hospital at Livingston. Oh, please hurry, Amy. I don’t know if we can keep him.”

“Yes. Yes, I will.” The phone slid from her hand and she stared ahead. She’d heard Tommy crying and knew she must get to Ray. But for a moment, just for a moment, she had to hug the terrible news all to herself. Maybe, if she wouldn’t accept it, it wouldn’t be true. 

She stared at the ceiling. Ray. Let me feel you out there, Ray.

Nothing but coldness answered her.

It was true.

She jumped out of bed.

 

Brutus, the latest in a long line of hard-mouthed Chesapeake retrievers, thumped a greeting when Barbara stepped onto the deck.

Miles looked up from the table where he’d been reading and gave her a lazy smile. “So you’re up! Help yourself to some coffee. How are you feeling? Is your cold better?” Then he saw the alarm on her face and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Miles! It’s Ray.” Barbara’s hand flew to her mouth. “He’s dying!”

Miles paled and jumped to his feet. “Dying?! My God, what happened?!”

“No, not dying,” she mumbled against her palm. “Not y-yet. I‘m sorry.” She wiped tears off her face with the back of her hand and breathed deeply. “Tommy just called. Ray suffered a heart attack. He’s, he’s bad, Tommy said.”

Miles folded his arms around her, and she sobbed against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Barbara turned her head and stared at the ocean. “What will I do, Miles? What will I do?”

“Go to him, honey.”

She looked up into his face. “I mean, if he dies?”

Miles frowned. “He’s not dead, yet. Don’t count him out yet. He’s a tough, ol’ cowboy.”

“Lakota. I must tell Lakota that her, her--”

“I’ll call her. I’ll fly you both up there to--”

“Livingston.”

“Livingston. You get packed. Go take a shower and eat something, too.”

“I can’t.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Yes, honey, you can. You can, because Ray and I both think you can. You can, because Ray and I both need you to do that.” He hugged her close to him. “You’re strong and you can do it.” He pushed her back to look at her. “And I’ll be with you, darlin’. You won’t be alone.” He gave her a slight shove. “Now, go!”

 

Because he was a licensed pilot, Miles flew the Beachcraft himself. And because he’d been trying to get Barbara and Lakota back together, he knew they couldn’t get away from him or each other up in the sky like they would on the ground.

“Your mother’s been wanting to talk to you, Lakota,” Miles said after he got the plane headed for Livingston.

Lakota gave her mother a cool look. “She could always leave a telephone message, and I’ll get back to her.”

“She’s tried that, Lakota. Either you didn’t get the message or you didn’t return the call. Either way, you’ve missed each other.”

“Miles, leave it alone.”

“It’s okay, Barbara. We might as well try to get this straightened out. Nobody can go anywhere for awhile, so we might as well talk. Lakota, your mother has an idea about something that might help your people better their lives on the reservation. You can at least hear her out.”

“All right,” Lakota said as she crossed her arms. Soon, she had uncrossed her arms and was listening intently to Barbara. Neither one saw Miles smiling to himself.

 

Barbara, Lakota, and Miles arrived at the hospital in Livingston to find Mary Lou Marshall, Ray’s ex-wife, patrolling the hallway in front of Ray’s room. Her teenage children by Ray hung back in shame of their mother and in fear of their father’s life.

“I’ll ask you not to go in there,” Mary Lou demanded as Barbara approached the closed door.

Barbara turned to her. “Tommy called me, Mary Lou. He thinks I should be here.”

Mary Lou motioned over her back. “These are Ray’s legal children.” Her eyes snapped at Lakota. “Have some respect for them.”

Lakota opened her mouth, but for once could say nothing.

“Lakota is just as much his child as they are,” Barbara said. “He loves her, too.”

“But Jennifer and Kyle are legitimate!”

“Mother--” This was Jennifer with the flowing blonde hair who approached the arguing group.

“Stay out of this, Jennifer!”

“No, Mother, I can’t. Shouldn’t we be thinking of my father, just this once?”

“I’m thinking of my children, and how they’ve been slighted!”

Jennifer glanced at the hostile looking Lakota. “And this is my sister, and I’d like the chance to get to know her. I’d like for us to be friends. She looks like a pleasant person, and I bet we‘ll find that we have a lot in common. After all, we have a wonderful father, so that‘s a pretty good start, I believe.”

Lakota’s mouth dropped open, and the hostility melted from her face. She glanced from Jennifer to Kyle, and everyone could see that she was curious about her siblings, too.

“Mary Lou, leave them alone.” Barbara said. “Our children are grown. They’ve been hurt about this whole situation. Let’s not have them get hurt further. It’s natural that they should want to know each other. We won’t lose them. In fact, they’ll appreciate the trust we’ll place in them.”

Jennifer gave her mother a hug. “She’s right. It’s time for everyone to heal. Then maybe we can help Daddy.”

Tears ran down Mary Lou’s cheeks. “I was just trying to protect you and Kyle.”

Jennifer pressed her head against her mother’s. “We know. And we appreciate it. But now it’s time to let go of the hard feelings. Barbara didn’t break you and Daddy up, you know. It just didn’t work out for you two.”

Mary Lou glared at Barbara. “He always loved you. I tried to be a good wife to him, but you were always in his heart. Besides being jealous of you, I could never understand why you treated him the way you did. How could you be so callous to a man who was so devoted to you?”

“The flaw is in me, Mary Lou. I just can’t commit myself.”

Mary Lou glared at Miles. “And you! How can you accept that your wife spends part of her life with another man? Don’t you get jealous?”

Miles stepped forward and pulled his arm around Barbara’s shoulders. “But part of it she spends with me. We couldn’t live together all the time. It’s the kind of relationship I want, Mrs. Marshall. I’m proud that Barbara is my wife.”

Mary Lou slowly shook her head. “I must be going mad. Everyone seems tolerant of this situation except me.” She shrugged. “So, I guess I better accept it, too.”

Jennifer hugged her again. “It’ll be all right, Mother.” She looked at Barbara. “We’ll go downstairs to the coffee shop so you can look in on Daddy.” She smiled at Lakota. “If it’s all right with you, Kyle and I would like to talk to you and get a chance to know you. Daddy would like it, and we owe it to ourselves.”

Lakota nodded and tried a small smile. “Yes, I think I would like that, too. I’ll meet you downstairs after I see how he is. And, thank you. Jennifer.” She glanced at her brother and smiled. “And Kyle.”

They smiled back.

 

Ray lay motionless, as if he had already died.

“Daddy?” Lakota whispered. “I’m here.” She touched his hand. “I love you, Daddy, and I hope you get better.” When he didn’t respond, she turned toward her mother. “I’ll let you stay by yourself with him. I think he’s been waiting for you.”

“But--”

“Mary Lou was right. It always has been special between you and Daddy. No, I’m not jealous, just realistic. In time, he will be happy to see me. But, right now, you are the only one who can bring him back.” She kissed Barbara’s cheek. “So, bring him back, Mother. Bring him back for all of us.”

“Thank you,” Barbara whispered. “And thank you, Miles, for everything.

Miles started to follow his stepdaughter out of the room. He figured he’d been given his dismissal.

But Barbara stopped him. “Stay with me, Miles.”

“Like Lakota said, this is between you and Ray.”

“Please, Miles, I need you with me.”

He nodded and followed Barbara to the sick bed.

Amy rubbed Ray’s hand. “Ray? It’s Amy. Miles is here with me.”

“Hi, Ray. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. Sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

“We’ve come to be with you, Ray. Lakota’s here, too. Right now, she’s downstairs with Jennifer and Kyle. Your children are all together. I think they’re going to be great friends.” She bit her lips together. “They just want their daddy to get well.” 

She breathed deeply. “The doctors say you can be okay, if you want to be. Oh, Ray, fight to stay alive! We need you so much.” She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “Oh, Ray, come back to me! I promise I’ll live with you if you do. I’ll divorce Miles and live at the ranch.” She felt Miles stiffen beside her. “I’ll take care of you, Ray. Just give me the chance, darling. I love you so much. Just give me the chance to prove it.” A spasm of weeping overcame her, and Miles pulled her away.

“Come over here, sweetheart, and sit down. You need to rest.”

She looked up wildly. “I said it! Did you hear me?!” She tried to push out of the chair, but Miles restrained her.

“What, darling? What did you say?”

“That I love him! And I really do! Oh, why couldn’t I say that to him before? For all these years, that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear.”

“Of course, you love him. We all do. We’re part of his family, and he‘s a part of ours.”

“You don’t understand! Have you ever heard me say that I love you?”

Miles looked away. “No. That’s just something a person has to assume, with you.”

“Look!” she demanded, grabbing his arm. “He moved!” She ran to the bed. “Ray! Ray, darling, it’s Amy!”

Miles followed her and their conversation was forgotten.

 

Several days later, the crisis was past and Ray began to mend. He was proud to see his three children together and appreciated the fact that they were trying to become friends. Nothing, besides seeing Amy, could have boosted his determination to get well more.

But the afternoon she informed him that she would come to the ranch permanently, he frowned.

“You listen to me, missy, and you hear me good. I’ve got no intention of ever clipping your wings. Your place isn’t on the ranch taking care of me.”

Tears began to run down her face. “It would be my present to you, Ray. It would be my way of saying that I love you. And I do, you know. I do, really and truly, love you.”

His eyes glowed. “Thank you, darlin’. That means the world to me to hear you admit it.”

“Let me show you how much,” she whispered. “I’ll never leave your side.”

Ray frowned. “Loving me was all I ever wanted to hear you say, missy. I never asked you to ruin your life over me.”

“I wouldn’t be ruining my life, Ray,” she said as she stroked his chest. “I feel very much at home with you.”

“And what about Miles? Have you suddenly decided to forget about him?”

“Of course not! He’ll always be my special friend.”

“A special friend who also happens to love you, too, Amy. It’s a different kind of love, but it’s still love. He’d be lost without you, girl, and I think you’d be lost without him. You’re settling for each other. Everybody needs a home base, and you two are it for each other. Where is he, anyway?”

“He’s going home today. I mean to .LA.”

“See, you call it home, already. Go with him, honey.”

“But, I can‘t leave you!”

“Yes, you can. I’ll be okay. You watch and see. And take Lakota with you. I don’t know what project for the Indians that you and Miles have cooked up with her, but it seems to be settling her down. You’re giving her a direction with her life.”

“Maybe I’m finally being a mother to her. You know, I kind of like being that.”

Ray winked. “See? You can make an old man happy.”

She playfully slapped his hand. “Old man, my eye! Wait until you’re out of that bed, and I’ll turn back the clock for you.”

“Nobody’s around now.” He tossed the sheet aside. “Crawl in here and keep your promises.”

She covered him back up. “You are a horny old goat, aren’t you?” She smiled softly and rubbed his hand. “You know, if all we do is sit on the front porch of the ranch house together from now on, I’ll settle for it.”

“And I’ll always be waiting for you there, missy. You know, it ain’t been bad going for two people who never had anything in common besides--”

“And, oh, what a wonderful ‘besides’ it’s been.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “Someday I’ll show you just how much I love you.”

“Just so I can hear you sing sometime and know that you and our daughter are happy, I’ll be happy.” He swatted at her rump. “Now, go catch Miles, or I’ll get up and blister your butt good.”

She grinned. “Promises! Promises! You never did come through with that threat.”

“I always found better things to do with that pretty little butt, like putting my arm around it to hold you closer to me. How could I punish a sweet little thing like that when I love the rest of you so much? But there were times I could’ve spanked you. Times after you first came to the ranch with Tommy. But I think if I’d touched you than, I’d done more than spanked you.”

Sparks flashed in her eyes. “It’s always been special with us, Ray. Thank goodness, you tracked me down.”

“I had to, missy. Otherwise, I’d never had any peaceful living.”

She grabbed his hand and leaned forward. “That’s why I should stay with you now.”

“But I did find you, Amy, and we’ve had our time together. You were right. We could’ve never taken each other on a fulltime basis.”

“But--”

“You’d just stagnate on the ranch, and I couldn’t be humping you all the time. That’s really been the greatest thing we’ve had in common.”

She rubbed his hand. “Our wonderful ‘besides.’”

“Now, listen to me a minute, darlin’. I want to talk serious with you.”

She drew back. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“But you have to. You have to face facts. I might have ten years left, or twenty. Or maybe just ten minutes. And I want to know that Miles will always be there for you, if I’m not. Don’t give me that worry, missy. Let me know that you’ll be okay. Go with him now. Don‘t lose him.”

Amy straightened. “Now, the truth comes out! You unselfish bastard! You’re just thinking about my well-being!”

“That’s how much I love you, missy. I can send you away with another man because I know it’s for your own good. There’s nothing I’d like better than to have you with me on the ranch all of the time, but I know it wouldn’t work on a permanent basis. You’d eventually leave for good. And I’d rather have you showing up occasionally, for a little while, than never. So, go.” He nodded toward the door. “Go on, now.“ He studied her for a moment. “And hurry back, my dearest sweetheart,” he said softly.

His voice was filled with ashes, and she could only guess what an effort it’d been for him to tell her the truth. She rubbed his hand again.

“Okay.” She kissed him one final time, murmured a farewell, and left. 

They might not have realized it, but she had just shown him how much she loved him, too. She’d done what he’d asked. She’d walked away.

 

Miles watched Barbara cross the tarmac toward him and his airplane.

“Hi,” he said as he squinted into the bright sunshine. “How’s Ray today?”

“Grouchy.”

Miles smiled. “He’s definitely getting better then.” He slammed shut a compartment door on the outside of the plane. “I’m doing my pre-flight check. I’m just about finished with it.” He shot her a guarded look. “Have you come to see me off?” he tried to ask lightly.

“No. I’m going with you.”

Hope leaped into his eyes. “Really?” Then he frowned. “What about Ray?”

“He’ll be in the hospital for another week. Then Tommy will take him home, to the ranch.”

“You’re not going with him?”

She shook her head. “No. He doesn’t want me for a nursemaid. I guess he thinks I wouldn’t qualify.”

Miles gave her a guarded, tight-lipped smile. “He’s probably right. But I thought you’d insist on being with him.”

“He sent me packing.” She frowned. “And now you don’t seem exactly thrilled with the prospect of my going with you, either.”

Miles absently ran his hand along the edge of the airplane wing. “It’s not that, honey. I just thought that I’d be leaving alone.”

“Great!” she said with exasperation. “Neither one of you guys wants me around!”

His eyes reflected a generally well-hidden hurt. “I heard you say that you loved him. Did you tell him that when he was awake?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“And he still sent you away?” he asked in amazement.

“He said that you loved me, too.”

“Well, of course, I do, honey, but it’s different from the way Ray feels about you.”

“Well, I understand that! And you understand that! And I thought that Ray understood it, too. Now, I’m beginning to wonder.”

“What Ray also understands is that jealousy is generally part of a three-way relationship. It’s asking a lot for a couple of guys to handle, this, ah, arrangement that we have with you.”

“And do you think that women can handle it any better?! Yes, I know that in Europe, it’s an acceptable practice for a man to have a wife AND a mistress, too. But not here. Miles, I thought we were all handling this situation pretty well.”

“I guess we were, up until Ray had his heart attack. That reminded us all that there is another way to live, the way that most people have in a marriage.”

 

Barbara sighed. “Most women are nest builders. They want a proper, respectable marriage, even if it’s only on face value. I expect most men want the security of a home, so no woman can come up and accuse him of doing something on the side. Miles, would you ever want a divorce so you can form a normal relationship with someone else?”

Miles blanched. “I don’t think I could be normal anymore. I wouldn’t be proper husband material. I still like my solitary studies. Any other woman would have a terrible living situation with me. I’d drive her away.”

Barbara smiled and moved toward him. “Sounds like you need someone who leads her own life, someone who shows up occasionally to touch the security of a home base, someone who’d make no emotional demands on you, someone who gives you the respectable title of ‘husband.’ Someone like me.”

He grinned softly. “I don’t know of anyone who meets the qualifications better.” He sobered.

“But?”

“But are we cheating ourselves and don’t know it? Are we being selfish?”

“Are we not committing ourselves? Are we not saying ‘I love you’ when we need to?” She could tell by his stricken face that she might’ve hit on the truth. She took his hands in hers and searched his face. “Well, I do love you, Miles Paxton Hughes. I always have, ever since that crazy weekend when you didn‘t even learn my name.” 

He joined her in a nervous laugh.

Then she frowned because she had suddenly seen the tears glistening in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought I’d lost you for good. I thought you’d stay with Ray. Even though we created Tanner together, our relationship has always been fairly platonic. And I always thought if we went our separate ways, there would be no regrets. But, Barbara, I’m not so certain anymore. You’re part of my life, and I don’t want to give you up. Let me be old fashioned and admit that I was more than a little bit jealous of Ray, especially after you said that you loved him.” He frowned. “How can you love both of us?”

“Nobody can be all things to someone else. I won’t try. But I don’t want to lose you, either, Miles. Either of you. I love you both too much.”

He folded his arms around her. “And I love you, too. I guess I just needed to hear you say it. Just like Ray did.”

Barbara pulled back and smiled at him. “And I finally trust both of you to say it. Do you know how lucky that makes me?”

“About as lucky as we are.” He grinned down at her. “Come on, honey, let’s go home!”

 

So Barbara went home to California with Miles, and the three of them eventually launched a program to help the Native Americans of Montana. It was small, but it was a start.

Tommy took his Uncle Ray back to the home place where Ray slowly recuperated. Tommy’s oldest son came to be with Ray. So, along with the family living in the bunkhouse, Ray had a lot of people to watch over him. And he slowly recuperated. But his greatest medicine were the times that Amy, ah, Bambi, er, Barbara, came to stay with him.

 

Months later, high above the mountains of central Montana, a bald eagle wheeled and banked and glided on a current of air. Far below, Barbara Crider Hughes watched and felt a kinship with the magnificent bird. The eagle enjoyed the exquisite freedom of flight, yet had a nest waiting for it somewhere. It was both the master and the prisoner of its role in life, and so was Barbara. When she had finally realized this concept years ago, she had found contentment with herself.

Thank goodness that Miles and Ray accepted her as she was. She knew she was lucky to have the love of her best friend and the friendship of the man she loved. She also knew that other people didn’t understand the arrangement of her living with first one man and then the other. Sean Murphy had clearly hated her for the slights he supposed she did to Miles. And now Tanner seemed uncomfortable with the situation, too. He was getting older and could see that other mothers didn’t move around the way his mother did. Perhaps, during this visit of his to Ray’s ranch, Barbara could try to explain to Tanner.

Or, perhaps she wouldn’t.

Barbara believed that everyone was responsible for his own happiness and contentment. No one had to defend his lifestyle to anyone else. Some people had trouble understanding her ideas. That was their problem.

Barbara lifted her head and watched the eagle becoming a mere speck in the blue distance. Its moment of flying over, it was headed home. It loved its nest and the ones waiting there. But tomorrow, the open skies would beckon it to fly again. And the eagle would spread once more open its magnificent wings and plunge into all of that blueness. Once again, it would taste a freedom that had become only a vague memory to most creatures. 

Once again, it would fly!

Barbara knew that the eagle understood. That was enough for her.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> It is no coincidence if the reader thinks of Hardcastle and McCormick when reading about the television show Harrington-Price. The character of Adam Price is based on Milton C. Hardcastle, and the character of Noah Harrington is based on Mark McCormick. Likewise the character of Sean Murphy is based on Brian Keith, and the character of Miles Paxton Hughes is based on Daniel Hugh Kelly.  
> I own nothing of the Hardcastle and McCormick television show, nor do I represent the estate of the late Brian Keith nor the enterprises of the actor Daniel Hugh Kelly. I am just a fan paying homage to a wonderful series and two consummate actors.


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